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THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 



OF 



ERASMUS, 



EEV. ARTHUE ROBERT PENI^INGTON, M.A., 



RECTOR OF UTTERBY, LINCOLNSHIRK. 



WITH A PREFACE BY THE 
EIGHT EEV. THE LOED BISHOP OF LINCOLN. 




SEELEY, JACESON & HALLIDAY, SI, ELEET STEEET^ 
LONDON, MDCCCLXXV. 



.f4 



? 



PREFACE. 



When the author of this volume — whose public ser- 
vices in the diocese of Lincoln are entitled to grateful 
recognition — requested me to write a short Preface to 
it, I was unwilling, though with little leisure at com- 
mand, to decline the invitation, from regard to the 
subject, and to the writer. 

Erasmus was one of the principal instruments em- 
ployed by divine Providence, for conferring great bene- 
fits, intellectual, moral, and spiritual, on human society; 
and the study of his life inspires feelings of thankful- 
ness, while it supplies lessons of instruction, which are 
especially seasonable at tlie present time. 

The capture of Constantinople by the Turks, and 
the dissolution of the Eastern Empire, were calamities 
which Europe regarded with dismay. But the evil 
was overruled for o-ood. Greek teachers emigrated 
from the Eastern capital. The Learning and Literature 
of Greece were driver westward by the tide of bar- 
barism and unbelief ; and being aided by the discovery 



IV PEEFACE. 

■of Printing, were made ministerial to the revival of 
Letters, and to the Reformation of the Church. 

Erasmus, born in Holland, at Rotterdam, in 1467, 
and educated at De venter — where he was a school- 
fellow of a future Pope, Adrian YI. — felt the influence 
of these events. Many years elapsed before he mas- 
tered the Greek language, but by dint of severe study, 
especially at Oxford and Cambridge, he became quali- 
fied to bestow one of the greatest blessings on the world 
that it received for fifteen hundred years. He published 
the first edition of the Greek Testament, at the print- 
ing press of Froben, at Basle, in the year of our Lord, 
1516. 

In other respects also, circumstances, seemingly un- 
favourable to Christianity, were made conducive to its 
■ rapid difi'usion. The continuation of the use of the 
Latin language in the public services of the Church 
was doubtless in many respects a spiritual evil. But 
this also was controlled for good. It preserved Latin 
from becoming a dead language, at least among well- 
educated men, and it made Latin to be, in a certain 
sense, universal. 

Erasmus was an enterprising traveller ; he was a 
citizen of the world ; he resided at Louvain, Padua^ 
Florence, Rome, Paris, and Basle. He spent much time 
in England ; he knew no modern language except his 
own, in which few foreigners could converse with him, 
but he was everywhere at home. He came to Oxford 
with letters of introduction to Charnock, Prior of the 
Augustinians, in the College of St. Mary, in 1497, and 
soon after his arrival received a Latin letter from John 
Colet, afterwards Dean of St. Paul's, then at Oxford, 



PREFACE. V 

and wrote a reply to him in the same language. This 
was the beginning of a long friendship, happy and use- 
ful to both, and to the world. 

Tlie same may be said of the intercourse of Erasmus 
with the dear friend of Dean Colet, Sir Thomas More, 
and with his predecessor in the chancellorship, Cardinal 
Wolsey, and Archbishop Warham, and their royal 
master, Henry the Eighth. If Europe had not then 
possessed a common language for learned men, it is 
probable "that some of the best friendships would never 
have been formed, and the light of pure and primitive 
Christianity would not have been rekindled, and dif- 
fused so rapidly throughout the world. 

At the present time we speak of the publication of 
numerous successive editions of a contemporary bro- 
chure as a remarkable event : the circulation, however, 
of the author's orio'inal words is limited to a narrow 
range. But how different was the case even in the 
earlier part of the sixteenth century. The " Morm 
Encommiii" (or "Praise of Folly ") of Erasmus, and 
afterwards his '* Colloqiues" might be called religious 
and political essays or pamphlets, and were dissemi- 
nated everywhere by thousands of copies, and were 
eagerly read by popes and cardinals, kings^ princes, 
and statesmen, bishops, abbots, and clergy secular and 
regular, and by judges, civiHans, canonists, and magis- 
trates, and many other laymen, and also by fair ladies 
in all parts of Europe, and their influence was propor- 
tioned to their diffiision. 

Some religious meetings of learned and pious men 
of different churches and countries have lately been 
held ; and there is reason to hope that conferences of 



VI PEEFACE. 

this kind may become more frequent, and be conducive 
to tlie advancement of Christian truth and Christian 
peace. 

Would it not be worth while to consider whether 
one common language — especially Latin, with the 
same pronunciation — might not be adopted with ad- 
vantage at such consultations as these ? Would not 
this be better than that the members of a Conference 
should speak in their own tongue, and that the rest 
should wait for an oral translation of what Jiad been 
said ? 

The services of Erasmus in editing the works of 
ancient Fathers of the Church, especially St. Jerome, 
and of Latin translations of portions of St. Athanasius, 
St. Chrysostom, and St. Basil, claim thankful com- 
memoration. His patristic studies prepared and quali- 
fied him for the execution of a great work which was 
recommended to general acceptance by the depth and 
variety of its learning, by the tolerant moderation of 
its temper, and by the gracefulness and terseness of its 
language — his Paraphrase of the New Testament. 
This was translated into English by Nicolas Udal, 
Master of Eton College, and every parish in England 
was required by the royal authority of Edward YI. 
and Queen Elizabeth to procure a copy of it for general 
access in the parish church. 

No one can say how much the English Church and 
Nation have been indebted — from that time to this day 
— to the benefits thus conferred upon them by the 
learned scholar of Rotterdam. 

Erasmus was not a Luther ; and Luther was not an 
Erasmus. The one was a complement of the other. 



PEEFACE. VU 

Their differences are brought out sharply and clearly in 
the epistolary correspondence between them. If Eras- 
mus had displayed in his writings the vehement indig- 
nation of the great German Reformer, his Paraphrase of 
the New Testament would not have met with the 
general acceptance it enjoyed. None of Luther's 
works attained equal celebrity. But if Luther had 
been an Erasmus, some of the worst corruptions of 
the papacy would have escaped unscathed. Each of 
the two had his special mission ; and so far as that 
mission was a holy one, let the Giver of all Good 
be praised. 

We who live now may learn much from them both. 
Erasmus, like Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio in Ital}", 
and like the author of " Piers Ploughman's Vision,"* 
and Chaucer in the fourteenth century, and like our 
Colet in the fifteenth and sixteenth, desired to see a 
Reformation of the Church within the Church, and 
proceeding from the Church. The Reformation which 
he wished for, and which Colet advocated in his cele- 
brated sermon preached before the English Convoca- 
tion at St. Paul's, in loll, was rather a Reformation of 
nnannevSj of bishops, clergy, and people, than of doc- 
trines. Not that any of these illustrious men had the 
slightest sympathy with those dogmas which are now 
made the foundation of the Romish system, — especially 
that of the personal Infallibility of the Roman Pontiff/ 
and the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin 
Mary. Erasmus clung tenaciously to the authority of 
the Church, but not to that of the Fope. He freely 

* The author of Piers Ploughman's Creed is more anti- 
dogmatic. 



Vlll PEEFACE. 

satirized the licentious Alexander VI., Borgia, and the 
bellicose Julius II., and in his "Axioms" communicated 
to Spalatinus, and probably through him to the Elector 
Frederick of Saxony, he did not hesitate to censure 
Pope Leo X.'s bull, condemnatory of Luther, as 
"offensive to all good men;" and he even went so far 
as to suggest the abolition of the festival of the Con- 
ception of the Blessed Virgin.''' But he hoped that by 
the circulation and study of the Holy Scriptures, and 
by the reading of the writings of the Christian fathers, 
and by the discipline of such schools as his learned 
friend Colet, Dean of St. Paul's, had founded and 
munificently endowed (and for which Erasmus pro- 
vided religious exercises of devotion), and by the indi- 
rect influence of classical literature and elegant scho- 
larship, and by his own sportive pasquinades and 
satirical raillery on religious pilgrimages, such as that 
to the shrine of St. Mary of Walsingham, and St. 
Thomas of Canterbury, and on other abuses which he 
exposed to ridicule with the caustic wit of a Rabelais, 
many of the worst corruptions and errors of Komanism, 
which he regarded as due to ignorance and barbarism, 
and to the influence of scholastic theology, would grad- 
ually and quietly melt away and disappear. 

But the spirit of Wicklifle had revived in Martin 
Luther, and he, with others like him, were eager for im- 
mediate results, and boldly attacked dogmas which lay 
at the root of these practices. Doubtless in so doing- 
Luther assailed some things that might have been 

* See his interesting discourse " De Amabili Ecclesise Con- 
cordia," written only three years before his death, in Browne's 
•" Fasciculus Rerum Expetendarum," vol. i. p. 462. 



PKEFACE. IX 

spared, and spared others tliat might have been, 
assailed.* 

Erasmus sacriticed truth to a love of unity. Luther 
sacrificed unity to a love of truth. Who can say 
whether both truth and unity might not have been 
preserved ? 

In its hatred of the Papacy Germany lost episcopacj^ 
She forfeited that form of ecclesiastical government 
which had been continued in the Church from the 
time of the Apostles for 1500 years. The consequences 
of this loss are now manifest to all. St. Jerome never 
said a wiser thing than that there is " no schism which 
does not generate a heresy;" and Tertullian said no less 
truly that when a disruption takes place, and conflict- 
ing sects split off from tlie Church, then- only term of 
communion among themselves is discord, their only 
" unity is in schism ;" and the consequences are seen, 
not only in bitter religious strife, but in civil turmoils 
and confusion. 

Let us not, however, take on ourselves to censure 
either of those great men, Erasmus and Luther, but let 
us learn wisdom from both. 

The study of their history and of that of their con- 
temporaries has a special interest for the " old Catho- 
lics " of German}^, Holland^ Switzerland, and Italy at 
the present time, and for all who sympathize with 
them in their noble endeavour to reform the Church 
by an appeal to Holy Scripture and to primitive Chris- 

* Luther's reckless dictum concerning the Epistle .of St. 
James is one of the specimens of that arbitrary self- dogmatism 
and lawlessness of private opinion which unhappily marred and 
damaged his work. 



X PKEFACE. 

tian antiquity. It is fraught with solemn warnings 
and salutary instruction to them and to ourselves. 

A great conflict is at hand, which will probably be 
more violent that that of the sixteenth century. Two 
forms of anti-Christianism are rising in Europe ; an- 
tagonistic to each other, and driving each other by an 
excess of reaction to more dangerous extremes, both 
hostile to the truth and to unity in Church and State; 
both tending to confusion in doctrine, discipline, and 
civil polity, — Ultramontanism on the one side, and 
Unbelief on the other. The country of Luther is th& 
battle-field of this struggle. The fatherland of Eras- 
mus is also concerned in it. Germany and Holland 
have felt also the effects of the counter-movement of 
L " old Catholicism" begun at Munich, and continued at 
/ Cologne, Fribourg, and Bonn. 

The conflict of Ultramontanism and Unbelief will 
probably extend throughout Europe and. the world. 
Sounds of its approach are heard among ourselves. 
How [shall we meet it ? History testifles that a 
well-organized Ultramontanism can never be effectually 
counteracted by a sceptical Secularism, or by a revo- 
lutionary Rationalism. Neither of these will save the 
civil and ecclesiastical institutions of a country. They 
create nothing ; they construct nothing ; they con- 
serve nothing. They are only potent — and very ener- 
getic they are — in destruction. Nor will a discordant 
Sectarianism, or a creedless Erastianism — the one dis- 
tracting the Church, the other seeking to tyrannize 
over it — preserve a state from disruption. The con- 
flicts of the seventeenth century in England, when 



PREFACE. XI 

Sectarianism and Erastianism had full scope, warn us 
of this. 

Aerius and Erastus are, in fact, the best allies of 
Hildebrand, because they weaken the Christian Church, 
which is the only safeguard against the schisms and 
heresies of Rome, and against her temporal and spirit- 
ual domination. Our only hope of security and success 
against the two tremendous powers, TJltramontanism 
and InfideUty, which are marshalled against each 
other, and are now threatening to overwhelm the world 
in anarchy and ruin, is in reading carefully the history 
of the past, and in learning the lessons, such as are 
contained in the present volume, which it teaches, 
that the security of churches, monarchies, and states 
depends on obedience to the Will and Word of God, 
and on the maintenance of that sound form of Evan- 
gelical and Catholic doctrine, and Apostolical form of 
Church government, which is contained in the Holy 
Scriptures, and which was received by the primitive 
Church, and which was cleared from corruptions at the 
English Reformation in the sixteenth century by wise, 
learned, and holy men, who, under the guidance of the 
Holy Spirit, steered a middle course between the tem- 
porizing moderation of an Erasmus and the rash 
courage of a Luther ; and while they waged war 
against Error were not guilty of schism, but contended 
manfully for the Faith, while they steadfastly main- 
tained the unity of the Church. 

C. Lincoln. 

Riseholme, Lincoln, 
Monday before Advent, 1874. 

The writer wishes to add the following observations. 



ICll PREFACE. 

He undertook the work for the purpose of supplying 
the want of a Life of Erasmus in a volume of moderate 
size in our, own language. Knight's "Life," and 
Jortin's " Life," both published in the last century, are 
unsatisfactory; the former for several reasons, but 
for this reason in particular, that the author con- 
fines himself almost entirely to the connections of 
Erasmus in England ; and the latter, because it is long 
and discursive, and has not the least pretensions to 
arrangement. Besides, these books are to be found 
only in old libraries, and are not available for the 
general reader. The only complete Life in English 
since Jortin's and Knight's time, before last year, is 
that of Butler, which is very far from conveying 
to the reader all which ought to be known in re- 
gard to Erasmus. Mr. Seebohm in his "Oxford Ee- 
formers," published a few years ago, relates only a part 
of the Life ; and D^ean Milman in his Essay, originally 
published as an article in the " Quarterly Beview," as 
well as Mr. Froude, in his " Short Studies on Great 
Subjects," have given only rapid, though lively sketches 
of this distinguished man. In foreign languages, there 
are " Lives of Erasmus," which Dean Milman has well 
described. 

When the Memoir was for the most part compiled, 
Mr. Drummond's " Life " made its appearance. This 
fact is mentioned to show that the writer has not 
borrowed from him the details which are now brought 
before the public. On some important points he differs 
from Mr. Drummond ; and feels especially that his 
work does not bring forward all the lessons to which 
attention is called in the following pages. 



PREFACE. xm 

Circumstances have occurred which have delayed 
the publication to the present time. 

It only remains to say that the editions of Erasmus's 
works referred to in the pages of the following Life, 
as " edit. Bas." and " edit. Lugd.," are the Basle edition 
of 1540, and the Leyden edition of 1703. 

Arthur R. Pennington. 

Utterby Rectory, 
Tuesday before Advent, 1874. 



CONTENTS. 



<HAI>TEK PACK 

I. INTRODITCTORY ... ... ... ... 1 

II. BIRTH.— EDUCATIOX.— EARLY YEARS.— FIRST VISIT 

TO ENGLAND. — (a.D. 1467 — 1500) ... ... 12 

in. RETURN TO THE CONTINENT.— JOHN VITRARIUS. — 
THE "aDADGES." — THE "ENCHIRIDION." — (A.D. 1500 
—1505) ... ... ... ... ... 43 

rV. SECOND VISIT TO ENGLAND. — JOURNEY TO ITALY. 
— DESCRIPTION OF GERMAN INNS. — RETURN TO 
ENGLAND.— THE " PRAISE OF FOLLY."— (a.D. 1505 
—1510) ... ... ... ... ... 63 

V. INTERCOURSE WITH THE ROYAL FAMILY OF ENG- 
LAND. — RESIDENCE AT CAMBRIDGE. — ACCOUNT OF 
HIS VISITS TO WALSINGHAM AND CANTERBURY 
IN HIS COLLOQUY, " PEREGRINATIO RELIGIONIS 

ERGO."— (a.D. 1510—1514) ... ... ... 103 

VL JOURNEY TO BASLE FOR THE PRINTING OF THE 
NEW TESTAMENT AND ST. JEROME.— MISTAKEN- 
ESTIMATE OF POPE LEO. — REASON-S FOR ABANDON- 
ING THE IDEA OF SETTLING IN ENGLAND. — CHA- 
RACTER A>fD OPINIONS OF MORE AND COLET. — 
(A.D. 1514—1516) ... ... ... ... 143 



XVI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PACK 

VTI. HIS "GHEEK TESTAMENT."— (A.D. 1516) ... ... 172 

VIII. THE VIEWS AND CONDUCT OF ERASMUS IN EEGAED 
TO THE EEFOKMATION, AND THE MANNER IN 
WHICH HE AIDED ITS PKOGEESS. — (A.D. 1517 — 
1519) ... ... ... ... ... 190 

IX. GRADUAL ALIENATION EEOM THE EEFOEMERS. — 
TREATISE ON FREE-WILL, AND "COLLOQUIES."— 
(A.D. 1519—1524) ... ... ... ... 2.31 

X. THE REVOLT OF THE PEASANTS. — ^WOELDLY MOTIVES 
OF EEASMUS.— HIS INCOME.— OPPOSITION TO HIM 
IN FEANCE.— TREATISE ON MATEIMONY DEDICATED 
TO QUEEN CATHERINE, AND OTHER WORKS.— (A.D. 
1524—1526) ... ... ... ... 281 

XL ERASMUS AT ENMITY WITH THE REFORMERS. — HIS 
LOVE OF FAME. — CONTINUED OPPOSITION OF THE 
MONKS. — HIS " CICERONIANUS." — DEPARTURE 
FROM BASLE TO FRIBURG.— LOUIS DE BERQUIN. — 

(A.D. 1526—1530) ... ... ... ... 307 

Xn. LOSS OF FRIENDS BY DEATH.— LAST YEAES.— CHA- 
RACTER.— (A.D. 1530—1536) ... ... ... 342 



EERATA. 

Page 29, last line, for " Heyer," read "Heyeii." 
,, 64, last note, for " Abbate," read " Abbati." 
„ 128, line 15 from top, he/ore " the Emperor Charles the Great," i7isert " Prince 

Charles, afterwards." 
,, 209, line 16 from bottom, _7'b3' " covetuousness," read " covetousness. " 
J, 224, last line,^r " many," read " Mary." 



LIFE OF ERASMUS. 



CHAPTEE I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 



The life of Erasmus is, for various reasons, very interest- 
ing. He greatly contributed to prepare the way for the 
Eeformation. " He was the man who," to use the words of 
Bishop Stillingfleet,* " awakened men's understandings, and 
brought them from the friars' divinity to a relish of the 
general learning. He, by his wit, laughed down the impe- 
rious ignorance of the monks, and made them the scorn of 
Christendom ; and by his learning he brought most of th& 
Latin fathers to light, and published them with exact edi- 
tions, and with useful notes, by which means men of parts 
set themselves to consider the ancient church from the writ- 
ings of the fathers themselves, and not from the canonists 
and schoolmen, so that the most learned and impartial men 
were prepared for the doctrines of the Reformation before it 
broke forth." i^nd in another place the Bishop says, " There 
was not one G-reek Testament to be found in all Germany till 

* "Discourse concerning the Idolatry practised in the Church of 
Home, &c." London, 1671. 

1 



VI HIS LEAENma. 

Erasmus printed it with notes, whicli infinitely took among 
all pious and learned men, and as much enraged the monks 
and friars, and all the fast friends to their dulness and su- 
perstition." He adds, " In order to prevent the extrava- 
gancies of the people in the interpretation of Scripture, his 
most exact paraphrase was set up in our churches." Thus 
we in this country, as we shall see in a future chapter, have 
a special interest in him. By promoting the study of the 
Scriptures, this work aided the progress of the Reformation. 
Erasmus was the most learned man of his time in 
Europe. He has been justly called the envy of his own 
age, the wonder of all succeeding ages. He was gifted 
with mental faculties of the highest order, which 
had been greatly improved by diligent application. His 
industry was so great, that notwithstanding the want of 
books, his great poverty, the want of masters who were 
qualified to instruct him, and an infirm constitution which 
must have hindered him greatly in the attainment of his 
object, he rose to a proud pre-eminence above the common 
herd of his fellow-creatures, and secured for himself a high 
place in the Temple of Fame. To himself he owed almost 
all his knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages. In 
the latter all his works were written. His memory was so 
retentive, that at the age of thirteen he knew the whole of 
Horace and Terence by heart. He was ''the observed of 
air observers." As we shall see in the following life, he held 
constant correspondence with princes, nobles, and others, 
who endeavoured to induce him to make their country the 
land of his adoption, and to take up his abode permanently 
among them. Learned men flocked to him from all parts 
of Europe. We are told that Albert, Archbishop of Maintz, 
was greatly afflicted because he was not likely to see him 
before his death. '^ As many pilgrimages were made to 
* Knight's Life, p. 320. 



PFvEPERENCE FOE EXGLAXD. 3 

Erasmus during liis lifetime as to the shrines of any of 
those canonized saints whom the Church of Rome has em- 
balmed with her praises, and has taught her followers to 
regard with superstitious reverence. 

We, in this country, ought to feel the greatest interest in 
Erasmus, because he preferred our country to any other, and 
because he laboured successfully for the advancement of 
polite learning in England, during the many years which 
he passed among us. We shall find, in the following life, 
that he considered that a filial bond united him to the soil 
of Great Britain. Writing to an English friend, Eobert 
Fisher, with whom he became acquainted at Paris, and who 
was at that time travelling in Italy, he speaks in the highest 
terms, not only of the fertility of the soil and the salubrity 
of the climate, but also of the learning and refinement of the 
inhabitants.'-' In a letter to xVrchbishop Warham, he says 
*' that in England are many masters of the learned languages, 
and such universal scholars as are worthy of the admiration 
of Italy. "t In an epistle to his friend Ammonius, he ex- 
presses much indignation against Holland, because it valued 
him so little when all other countries were uniting to do him 
honour, j AVriting to a friend going to England, he says 
that he infinitely prefers our country to his own.§ He thus 
continues : " It is something to have seen Britain, celebrated 
as the home of men who are conversant with every branch 
of learning. You will find, also, that intercourse mth so 
many remarkable for their erudition will tend greatly to 
the refinement of your manners and the enlargement of your 
knowledge. You must, however, always behave yourself 
modestly, and not be too free in expressing your dislike of 
-anything which you may see in that country. For the 

■' Eras., Op., torn. iii. p. 218, edit. Bas. t Knight's Life, p. 120. 
X Hoc me male habet, Italos, Hispanos, Getas, Danos, candidiores 
•cxperior in me quam meos. Op., torn. iii. p. 301, edit. Bas. 
§ Op., tom. iii. p. 930. edit. Bas. 

1—2 



4 INTEEEST ATTACSmG TO HIS ERA. 

English people are, not without reason, lovers of their native- 
land. Some travellers are so rude as to find fault with- 
everything which is different from the usage of their own 
country ; not considering that music, though very exquisite, 
may not be pleasing to the ear which is not accustomed to 
it. In receiving or refusing gifts, which, as the inhabitants 
are very liberal, they are sure to offer, be very careful. If 
any should be offered by real friends, accept them, and ex- 
press your gratitude for them ; if by those who are insincere- 
in their professions of friendship, politely decline them. 
For it is more difficult to do the latter in a becoming man- 
ner than the former." In a letter to Henry VIII.,* he says>, 
" I am not a native of Britain ; and yet when I consider- 
how many years I have lived in that country, how many 
patrons, how many excellent and sincere friends I owe to it, 
how large a part of my fortune is to be found there, I have 
as hearty a love and esteem for it as if I had drawn my first 
breath in it." He met with the greatest encouragement in 
England. The number of dedications of his works made to 
Englishmen, affords us convincing evidence that he found 
more patrons in our own than in any other country. Most 
of his earliest and best works owed their origin to the sug- 
gestions and advice of many of the greatest men in England, 
the names of some of whom fill a large space in our national 
annals, t 

The era in which Erasmus lived is no less interesting than, 
the individual himself. His life commences about the time 
of the revival of learning, and extends beyond the dawn of' 
the Keformation. The abuses and corruptions of the Church 
of Eome were at this time greatly intensified. A cry for 
deliverance, as loud as that which rang through the pagaa 
world shortly before the coming of Christ, ascended from a 

* Op., torn. iii. p. 250, edit. Bas. 
t Knight's Life, Introduction, p. 26. 



EFFECTS OF THE FEVIVAL OF LEAEXIXG. •> 

groaning and travailing creation. AVe witness also an uni- 
versal fermentation in the regions of thought. A bold spirit 
of inquiry was now abroad among the nations of Europe. 
No doubt^the examination of the treasures of ancient learn- 
ing which, in consequence of the fall of Constantinople, were 
•conveyed to Europe, was a most important means of pro- 
moting that spirit. For the effect of the study of the im- 
mortal writers of antiquity w^as, that the human mind was 
-aroused from the slumber of ages, and, in the full conscious- 
ness of new-born vigour, pushed its inquiries into, and laid 
bare, that vast system of error which the Roman Catholic 
Church had imposed upon Christendom. Bat, above all, 
the effect of the ^e^dval of Greek literature was that the 
meaning of the text of the New Testament was brought 
within the comprehension of the more intelligent part of the 
community. Thus they were enabled to see that Rome had 
corrupted and mutilated the faith once delivered to the 
saints. 

The Greeks had, long before the fall of Constantinople, 
prided themselves on their great intellectual superiority to 
the barbarians of the West. They boasted that they pos- 
sessed the works of those masters of poetry, eloquence, and 
philosophy, who have erected for themselves in them a monu- 
ment more durable than brass or marble. But we believe 
that they were unable to appreciate those productions of 
ancient genius. Their superiority seems to have arisen from 
their use of Greek as a living language. They possessed 
the golden key which unlocked the exquisitely wrought 
cabinet. They had written numerous treatises on etymology 
and sj-ntax. But the truth must be told, that the Greeks 
were a stationary or degenerate nation. The present race 
were unworthy sons of those heroes who had performed pro- 
digies of valour in the pass of Thermopylce or on the plain 
of Marathon, of those mighty monarchs who have moulded 



i> ADVANCE OF THE LATIN WOELD. 

the taste and genius of mankind through every succeeding 
age of the world's history. 

The Latin world had, in the fifteenth century, woke up- 
from the sleep of ages, and was advancing with great ra- 
pidity. The lower orders had been delivered from that 
feudal bondage which palsied their energies, and had ob- 
tained that liberty which was their inalienable birthright. 
The happy result was that they soared aloft into the regions 
of fancy, and even grappled with those clifiicult questions 
which perplex the reason, and stagger the faith of mankind 
in the course of their earthly probation. The various uni- 
versities were peopled with students, who applied them- 
selves with ardour to the pursuit of literature, or the inves- 
tigation of truth. The Arabians had already contributed 
to the advancement of scientific inquiry. We find that a 
love for science wasfdiff'used through the length and breadth 
of the territory in which Mahomedanism bore rule. The- 
Ommiades of Spain, who reigned above 250 years from the 
Atlantic to the Pyrenees, are especially commended for 
their patronage of learning. They had formed a library of 
600,000 volumes, forty-four of which were employed in 
catalogues. 

We are informed that Cordova gave birth to three hun- 
dred writers, and ^that seventy libraries were opened in 
Andalusia. The sun of literature poured a flood of light 
over those chosen regions, while the other parts of Europe 
were involved in a worse than Egyptian darkness. The 
learned Gerbert, who on his elevation to the pontificate, in 
the year 999, assumed the title of Sylvester II., seems to- 
have derived from the Arabian doctors in Spain a large part 
of that extensive and profound learning which has rendered 
his name illustrious.''" We are informed that he spent some 
time in receiving lessons from the Arabian professors in the 

'-' Mosheim's "Churcli Hist:," Cent. 10, part ii. c. i. s. 7, 8. 



AEABIAX LEAEXI^'G. 7 

seminaries of learning at Seville and Cordova. He not 
only studied himself physic, mathematics, and philosophy, 
but also encouraged others in Germany, France, and Italy 
to follow his example. Thus, those who were anxious to 
excel in arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy, repaired to 
the Spanish universities in order that they might be in- 
structed by those sages who were renowned throughout the 
world for their knowledge of the mysteries of science. 
This age of Arabian learning seems to have been continued 
from the middle of the eighth to the close of the thirteenth 
century.* Then the Arabian ceased to give laws to the 
republic of letters. If he had continued much longer his 
patronage of them, the vast resources furnished by printing, 
paper-making, and the mariner's compass, would have been 
at his disposal, and would have greatly aided the advance- 
ment of Mahomedanism. But having, by his cultivation of 
learning, prepared Europe for the Eeformation, he ceased 
to be in a position to make use of these improvements 
which subsequently became the auxiliaries of the Church, 
and served greatly to promote her onward march through 
the length and breadth of the world. 

But now the Greeks were to play an important part in 
this new intellectual era. Even as early as the thirteenth 
century the sun of Greek literature had risen above the ho- 
rizon, and was illumining with a ruddy glow the summit of 
the Western hills.t In the fourteenth century the illustri- 
ous Petrarch laboured most energetically to emancipate the 
mind of man from its thraldom. He endeavoured to roll 
back the mists of ages, and to kindle in the minds of his 
fellow-countrymen an admiration for those stars of dazzling 

* The Arabian writers date the origin of their literature from the 
reign of Almanzor, a.d. 758. (Gibbon, c. lii.) 

For interesting details on Saracen literature see Mill's "History 
of Mahomedanism," c. vi.; and Turner's "Historj'- of England," vol. i. 

t Smyth's " Lectures on Modern History," c. ix. 



^ peteaech's literaet labours. 

brightness, whicli, more than a thousand years before, had 
.glittered in the literary firmament of Italy. It was with 
him pre-eminently a labour of love. In the prosecution of 
his object he encountered various difficulties, which only 
steadfast resolution, and the extraordinary genius with 
which he was gifted, enabled him to overcome. The most 
valued works of the ancients were scattered in convents, 
and were altogether unprovided with tables of contents 
and marginal notes. The attempt, therefore, before the in- 
vention of printing, to collect and arrange them, must have 
been attended with the greatest difficulty, especially when 
it was necessary to correct the errors of the copyists, and 
to supply, by comparing one manuscript with another, the 
chasms which existed in a particular work.''" The happy 
result was that the Latinity of his contemporaries was re- 
markable for all that purity and elegance for which the 
Augustan era, the golden age of classical literature, was 
pre-eminently distinguished. 

Through the careful study of the immortal works of the 
ancient authors, the minds of men began to glow with all 
those generous and lofty emotions for which the old Romans 
were conspicuous. Those ancient worthies seemed to have 
their proper representatives. A tribune, breathing the 
spirit of a Gracchus, strove to animate his fellow-citizens 
against the nobles who oppressed them ; and an orator, 
with all the eloquence of a Cicero, exhorted them to bid a 
truce to their deadly feuds, and to unite in delivering Italy 
from those lawless hordes, which, " like a hideous deluge 
gathered in strange lands," rushing with fearful violence, 
had rolled with desolating fury over the fertile plains of 
his native country. t 

"^ Sismondi's "Literature of Modern Europe." 

+ Simpson's "Literature of Italy," p. 157. See also Petrarch's 
stirring appeal to the nobles of Italy, urging them to deliver it from 
the yoke of slavery. 



IGNOEAXCE or GEEEK IX EmOFE. 9 

But tliougli Petrarch was quite prepared to appreciate the 
beauties of the poets, orators, and historians of ancient 
Greece, still, from his ignorance of the language, he could 
only enjoy them through the imperfect medium of a trans- 
lation. With the assistance of Barlaam, vrho came on an 
•embassy to Avignon respecting the union of the Greek and 
Latin Churches, he acc^uired some knowledge of the rudi- 
ments of the Greek language. But when he was fifty years 
of age, he confessed that he knew little comparatively of 
it, for when Barlaam presented to him a copy of Homer, he 
told him that he wanted his assistance to disclose to him 
the wonders of the Iliad and Odyssey.'' 

When Barlaam came to Italy about the middle of the 
fourteenth century, Petrarch informs us that the barbarians, 
i.e., the French and Gerxnans, had not even heard the name 
of the immortal bard of antiquity.t To Boccaccio more par- 
ticularly belongs the merit of having fanned into a Hame 
the glowing embers. With the aid of Leo, a disciple of 
Barlaam, he composed a literal prose translation of the Iliad 
and Odyssey. • But durmg his lifetime only ten votaries of 
Homer could be found in the whole of Italy. In the fol- 
lowing thirty years, that is from 1370 to 1400, the sun of 
Greek literature was shorn of his beams. The Italians, 
during that period, forgot the rudiments of the Greek lan- 
guage. 

But now, at the end of the fourteenth centur}^ the sun, 
never again to be eclipsed, began to "pour a flood of light 
•over the nations of Europe. A distinguished scholar, 
Manuel Chrj'soloras, was despatched by the Emperor 
Manuel to press the monarchs of Europe to hasten to 
the rescue of Constantinople from the infidel. He was in- 

* Gibbons "History of the Decline and Fall of the Koman Em- 
pire," c. Ixvi. 

t li barbari vix non dicam Hbros, sed nomen Homeri audiverunt. 



10 STUDY OF GEEEK IN EUROPE. 

vited by the Florentine republic to assume tlie office of 
professor. We are informed that the Italians flocked to 
his lectures. He afterwards gave instruction in the Greek 
language in other parts of Italy, and was greatly instru- 
mental in promoting the study of the immortal writers of 
antiquity. A multitude of scholars, of whom the most 
illustrious were Bessarion, Theodore Gaza, and John Ar- 
gyropylos, trod in the footsteps of Chrysoloras. Their 
foes, like the monarchs of the wood, bristling up their 
shaggy manes, were standing in gloomy "circles round the 
city of their fathers. Already they heard their savage yells, 
and the crashing of the boughs, as they were springing 
fiercely from their lair, eager to slake their thirst for blood 
in the red stream issuing from the mangled bodies of their 
fellow-countrymen assembled within the walls of Constanti- 
nople. Fear of these impending horrors hastened their 
departure from the city. Each of them snatched some 
manuscripts from the Byzantine libraries, and hastened with 
his xjrecious treasures over the ocean to a country where, 
undisturbed by the alarms of war, they might devote all 
their energies to the prosecution of their studies. 

These men aided to keep alive that flame which was now 
beginning to glow upon the hearths and altars of Italy.. 
The Italians laboured with equal ardour for the promotion 
of the same object. Amongst them we may mention parti- 
cularly Nicholas V., who became pope in 1447. He raised 
himself, by his learning, to the highest dignity attainable 
by a member of the Church of Eome. After his elevation, 
he became the patron, as he was before the friend, of the 
numerous learned men who were scattered through Italy. 
As we have already seen in the case of Pope Gerbert, by 
his patronage of letters, he inflicted a severe injury on his 
spiritual mother. He sought for books in every part of 
Christendom. To him the learned .world is indebted for 



INFLUENCE OF ERASMUS, It 

versions of the Greek historians, of the Iliad and Odyssey, 
and of the most vahiable works of Plato and Aristotle. 
Lorenzo de' Medici won for himself a high place in the re- 
public of letters. He sought eagerly for manuscripts of the 
Greek authors, and was never wearied with dwelling on the 
beauties contained in the pages which the Greek emigrants 
unfolded to his astonished and delighted view. The whole 
of Italy was animated by a similar spirit. These pupils 
were soon capable of transferring to other nations the 
knowledge which they had acquired for themselves. 

Erasmus was one of those who, as we shall see hereafter, 
in this manner gained a knowledge of the Greek language 
and literature. He afterwards became the chief means of 
promoting that converse with the immortal writers of an- 
tiquity which served to purify the taste, to invigorate the 
fancy, and to elevate the genius of the inhabitants of 
Europe. But above all he became, by the publication of 
his edition of the New Testament, the instrument in God's 
hands of disseminating a knowledge of those great and 
glorious truths, the proclamation of which was the means 
of delivering the nations of Europe from their spiritual 
bondage. 



12 PAEENTS AND BIRTH. 



CHAPTER 11. 

BIRTH — EDUCATION — EARLY YEARS — FIRST VISIT TO 
ENGLAND— (A.D. 1467—1500). 

We have no difficulty in fixing the birth-place of the illus- 
trious Erasmus, as he assumed it for his surname. He was 
born in Rotterdam, on October 28th, 1467. His father 
Gerard, of the town of Gouda (Tergau), in Holland, a man 
of much wit and vivacity, fell in love with Margaret, the 
daughter of Peter, a physician of Sevenbergen, by whom, 
after the most solemn promises to each other that they would 
marry, he had two sons, one of whom is the subject of our 
present memoir. His relations, who were anxious to sepa- 
rate him from Margaret, and to make him a monk, thinking 
that they ought to offer one son to God, compelled him, by 
ill usage, to leave his native town, about two years after the 
birth of his first son. He then went to Rome, where, as he 
was a good scholar, he gained a livelihood by transcribing 
ancient authors. While he was engaged in this occupation, 
they sent him word that she was dead. Thereupon, in an 
agony of grief, he took upon himself that irrevocable vow 
which separated him for ever from married life. Returning 
soon afterwards, he discovered the deceit which had been 
practised upon him. He now heard that he was again a 
father, and saw for the first time, the offspring of his 



EDUCATION. 13 

guilty passion for the equally guilty Margaret. She deter- 
mined that she would never marry another man, and he 
remained faithful to his sacerdotal vows. 

The original name of this son iras Gerard. In conformity, 
however, with the pedantic taste prevailing among men of 
letters in those days, of assuming names of Greek or Latin 
etymolog}', he translated that name, signifying in Dutch 
the Beloved, into the equivalent names of Desiderius in 
Latin, and Erasmus in Greek. He used both of them, 
but the latter was his common appellation. He added to 
them Eoterodamus, from the place of his birth. Gerard 
resolved, as he saw in his son an uncommon capacity, to 
spare no expense in his education, which he was well 
able to afford, as the pope had recently given to him 
a benefice in his native country. Erasmus was sent, 
when he was four years of age, to a school at Gouda, 
kept by a certain Peter Winkel ; and soon afterwards, 
having a good voice, was appointed chorister in the cathedral 
of Utrecht. A notion prevails in Holland that he was at 
first a dull, heavy boy. In support of it, a passage in his 
writings is brought forward where he says that "in his 
first years he made little progress in those unpleasant studies 
for which he was not born ; in Uteris illis inamo3nis quibus 
non natus erat." But, as Bayle observes, these "liter^e 
inanicen^," these unpleasant studies, must not be under- 
stood to apply to learning, but must be referred to want of 
success in his mu&ical exercises. He was sent, when he was 
nine years of age, to a very good school at Deventer, kept 
by a religious brotherhood not bound by vows, of which 
Alexander Hegius was the master. The latter had been 
instructed in Greek and Latin by Rodolph Agricola, who 
contributed more than any one else to the revival of classical 
learning, particularly to the study of the Greek language in 
Italy. A close intimacy existed between him and Hegius 



14 HIS GUARDIANS. 

'Coming into the scliool-room during an exraiiination of the 
themes of the boys, he looked over that of Erasmus, who 
was then in his twelfth year, and expressed his surprise at 
the style, and at the invention and beauties which it dis- 
played. He complimented Erasmus upon them, and assured 
him that, if he persevered, he would become a great man. 
Sintheim, the sub-rector, who was his chief instructor, fore- 
told that he would rise to the highest pinnacle of letters. 
He went through the usual course of logic, physics, meta- 
physics, and morals. His mother went to live at Deventer 
that she might be near him. Here she died of the plague, 
when Erasmus was thirteen years of age. Gerard, who was in- 
consolable for her loss, very soon followed her to the grave. 
They were, neither of them, more than forty years of age. 
/ After the death of his parents — for whose memory he 
always entertained an affectionate regard — he came under 
the charge of three guardians appointed by his father. One 
of them, a merchant, did not trouble himself much about 
him. The second soon died of the plague. The third, his 
lormer master, Peter Winkel, with the view of depriving him 
of his little patrimony, and securing it for the Church, de- 
termined to compel him to enter a religious house. He was 
sent first to an institution, Herzogensbusch (Bois-le-Duc), 
where youths were trained to be monks. Here every effort 
was made, but in vain, to induce him to become a regular. 
The monks were ignorant, narrow-minded, and cruel. The 
love of learning had been rapidly growing in him, but he 
had no opportunity of gratifying it. The least breach of 
discipline was often followed by a severe chastisement. The 
flogging, once inflicted for an offence of which he was not 
guilty, threw him into a fever for four days. This system 
injured his health, and made him timid and suspicious. It 
also gave him a horror of corporal punishment. After hav- 
ing continued here for two years, he returned to Gouda. 



LETTER TO GEUNNIUS. 15 

Erasmus has described later in life the means employed 
during this period to induce him to become a monk, which 
were only too successful, in the following very interesting 
letter to Grunnius, one of the scribes at the papal court, in 
"which, under the name of Florentius, he desires to be ab- 
solved by the pope from his monastic vows.''' No doubt 
the story is in the main told correctly. We are here in- 
formed , that he had a brother three years older than 
himself. We do not read of him in the earliest lives ot 
Erasmus. This letter, however, if, as is undoubtedly the 
case, it contains the narrative of his earlier years, is con- 
clusive as to his existence. We shall see from it that he 
was a very different person from his illustrious brother. 
The translation of a part of the letter only is here given : — 

" There were two brothers — Florentius, and an elder one, 
Antonius. When they were only boys, they lost their 
mother. Their father, dying soon after her, left a small 
property, which would have been quite sufficient to enable 
them to complete their education, if it had not been dimin- 
ished by the rapacity of the relations who were present at 
his death. For not a farthing of the money which he had 
at that time was found. . . . What was secured to them by 
deeds, and could not therefore be so easily touched by the 
talons of the harpies, was, however, quite enough for their 
instruction in the liberal arts, if a great part of it had not 
been lost tlu^ough the carelessness of their guardians. The 
latter determined to train them for a monastery, thinking 
that they had given a wonderful proof of theii' piety, if they 
provided them with the means of subsistence. When they 
were all only too ready to act thus towards them, they were 
urged on by one Guardianus, a haughty man, who enjoyed 

* Op., torn. iii. p. 919, edit. Bas. The date of this letter is not 
given. Since, however, the reqiiest in it is addressed to Leo X., it 
.could not have been written before 1513, when he became poiJe. 



16 TEMPTATIONS TO A MONASTIC LIFE. 

a high reputation for piety. He succeeded best with one 
under whom he had learnt in early boyhood the first rudi- 
ments of grammar. The latter was generally reputed to be 
a pious and upright man — that is, not addicted to gambling, 
to fornication, to usury, to drunkenness, or to infamous 
crimes ; but one who lived entirely to himself, was very 
parsimonious, and did not like that any one sliould possess 
more than the very moderate portion of knowledge which 
he had himself imperfectly acquired. For on receiving from 
Florentius, when he was ten years old, a letter written with 
some degree of elegance, he made the following sharp an- 
swer, that if he sent letters like it again, he should add to 
them a commentary ; that his own plan was to write plainly, 
and with stops. He seems to have had the feeling of many 
with whom I am acquainted, that if he could induce any 
one to become a monk, he was offering a very acceptable 
sacrifice to God. He constantly boasts how many he has 
been the means of adding every year to the orders of St. ' 
Francis, St. Dominic, St. Benedict, and St. Bridget. When 
they were ready for the schools, which they call Universi- 
ties, being afraid that they would become infected in them 
with a worldly spirit, and would decline to take the yoke^ 
upon them, he was careful to have them placed under the 
charge of some, commonly called Fratres CoUationarii, who,, 
not having a home anywhere, make money by the training, 
of boys. The plan of these men is, when they see a boy of 
a noble and lively spirit, to break and humble it by stripes, 
by threats, by reproaches, and by various other means. All 
this they call taming it, and preparing it for the monastic 
life. The Dominicans and Franciscans are very partial to 
tliem ; for they say that their orders would very soon perish 
if they did not obtain recruits from their seminary. I think 
that they have amongst them several well-disposed men ;, 
but when they have not before them the works of the besfe. 



TEMPTATIONS TO A MONASTIC LIFE. 17 

authors ; when they live in the midst of their own darkness, 
according to their own manners and customs, and do not 
compare themselves with others ; and when they are com- 
pelled to spend a great part of the day in prayer and their 
allotted tasks, I do not see how they can give boys a liberal 

education 

" The boys wasted more than two years with these men. 
The younger of them, being somewhat more learned than 
his masters, lost ground, at least in that portion of learning 
a knowledge of which they said that they possessed. As to 
one of his masters, Florentius says that he was a perfect 
monster ; and that he never saw a man more ignorant, or 
more vainglorious. Such are the men who are often set 
over boys. For they are not selected according to the judg- 
ment of learned men, but according to the pleasure of the 
Head of the brotherhood, who is generally ignorant of polite 
literature. Another, who always seemed to be greatly de- 
lighted with the disposition of Florentius, on finding that 
he was thinking of returning to his native country, began 
in private to urge him to join their order, mentioning many 
-of the inducements to do so by which youths are commonly 
influenced. . . . "While he was plying him with frequent ex- 
hortations, adding at the same time flattery and presents, 
and, last of all, caresses, the boy gave him this manly 
answer, that he had not yet a sufficient knowledge of liim- 
self, nor of monastic life ; and that as soon as he had arrived 
at years of maturity, he would deliberate on the subject. 
This man, who was not altogether a fool or a knave, then 
left him. I have known, however, some of this fraternity, 
who, not only by harsh and soft words, but also by dreadful 
adjurations, and, I had almost said, by exorcisms and incan- 
tations, have attempted to prevail upon rich and well-born 
youths, who have not yet completed their fourteenth year, 

2 



IS TEMPTATIONS TO A MO^-ASTIC LIFE. 

without the knowledge of their parents, to join their order. 
What is kidnapping, if this is not 1 

'' When Antonius and Florentius had returned to their 
native country, their guardians, who had not shown much 
honesty in the management of their small property, urged 
them to enter a monastery. Florentius, when he saw them 
acting as if they wished to coerce the wills of their wards, 
asked his brother, who was nearly three years older, he 
himself having only just completed his fifteenth year, whe- 
ther he really wished to be bound with fetters from which 
he could not hereafter be easily liberated. He candidly 
admitted that he was not influenced by a love for religion,, 
but by the fear of his guardians. ' What,' said Florentius, 
* are you so mad as, from foolish modesty and the fear of 
men, from whom you certainly have no reason to dread 
stripes, to begin a kind of life, with the nature of which you 
are not at all acquainted, and from which, when you have 
once entered on it, you cannot easily retrace your steps f 
Antonius began to allege as his excuse their pecuniary re- 
sources, which, small in themselves, had been much dimin- 
ished by the carelessness of their guardians. ' There is no 
cause for fear,' said Florentius ; 'we will scrape together the 
remainder, and with it we will go to an University. We 
shall easily find friends ; and we must remember, too, that 
many who have nothing are supported by their own indus- 
try. Moreover, God will aid us in our honest endeavours.'' 
" Antonius expressed so strongly his approbation of this 
answer, that he raised expectations of himself in the mind 
of the younger which he had not previously enter- 
tained. They therefore agreed to postpone the question 
of entering the monastery to some future time, until, 
after having been three or four years in the schools, 
they should be better able, by their age and experience, to 
decide on the course which it was best for them to take. 



AGEEEMEXT OF THE BSOTHEES TO KESIST. 1[> 

This, I say, was the opinion of both of them. The elder, 
however, was perplexed as to the answer to be given to the 
guardians, who were exerting every effort to acomplish their 
object, without having previously ascertained the wishes of 
their wards. An answer was now arranged between them, 
of which Antonius expressed his approbation. He only 
asked the younger to begin the conversation, and to answer 
in the name of both of them, adding that he was more 
timid and ignorant than his brother. Florentius consented 
to do so, but carefully stipulated with his brother that he 
should abide by his determination ; ' for,' he said, ' if you 
fail me after I have given the answer, all their wrath will 
be discharged upon my head. Eather at once change your 
mind, if either by flattery or harsh words you can be moved 
from your purpose. For, believe me, the matter in question 
is of the very greatest importance.' Antonius took a solemn 
oath that he would adhere to what he had said. 

" Some days afterwards one of his guardians paid them a 
visit. He began by making a great profession of his regard 
for his wards, as well of his vigilance and wonderful zeal 
for their interests, and congratulated them on his having 
found a place for them in the order of canons. Florentius 
then, according to their agreement, answered for both. 

" He thanked him for his kindness and zeal on their behalf, 
but added that neither he nor his brother thought that they 
should act with prudence, if, while, on account of their age, 
they were ignorant of the world, and hardly knew their 
own minds, and were altogether unacquainted with the 
nature of that which they were about to undertake, they 
should select any kind of life in particular. They had not 
yet, they said, entered any monastery, and they could not 
conceive what kind of an animal a monk could be. In 
their opinion the best plan would be for them to spend a 
few years in the prosecution of their studies, and then, in 



20 CONTINUED TEMPTATIONS. 

due season, to take the matter into consideration. Thus 
there was a far greater probability that they would make a 
wise choice. The guardian, if he had been a pious man, 
possessing the wisdom of the gospel, when he considered 
that he should have checked them if, from the warmth of 
youth, he saw them somewhat too forward, and should have 
told them not to trust to the feeling of the moment, ought 
to have given the lad an embrace when he heard this manly 
answer. He became, however, red with anger, as if a blow 
with the fist had been given to him ; so that, though he al- 
ways seemed to be a man of a somewhat gentle disposition, 
now he had no power to control his anger, and shame alone 
prevented him from striking him. Eegarding Florentius 
with a look of utter scorn, he called him an idle, spiritless 
rascal ; resigned his guardianship ; refused any longer to 
guarantee them the means of subsistence ; told them that 
nothing was left, and that they must provide for them- 
selves. With these and many other cruel and bitter re- 
proaches he loaded the younger of the two, which drew 
from him a few childish tears, but did not cause him to 
alter his purpose. ^ We accept,' he said, ' your resignation of 
the guardianship, and release you from your charge.' Thus 
they separated. 

"When the guardian saw that he had gained nothing by 
threats and reproaches, he summoned to his aid his brother- 
guardian, a man of wonderfully insinuating manner and 
pleasing address. The meeting took place in a summer-house ; 
the boys were told to sit down ; and wine-glasses were pro- 
duced. After some agreeable conversation, they proceeded 
to business more carefully and in a different manner. They 
were very bland ; told many lies about the wonderful happi- 
ness of monastic life; held out to them great expectations from 
it ; and added entreaties. The elder brother, worked upon 
in this manner, found his resolution giving way, and forgot 



AXTOXIUS A MONK. 21 

the oath which he had taken more than once to be firm. 
The younger adhered to his determination. In short, the 
faithless Antonius, betraying his brother, took the yoke upon 
him, liaving first stolen whatever he could lay his hands upon 
— not at all a new proceeding Avith him. With him, indeed, 
everything went prosperouslj^ For he was a man of slug- 
gish mind, of a strong constitution, careful about his 
worldly interests, cunning, a hard drinker, much given to 
fornication ; in short, so unlike the younger, that he almost 
seemed like a supposititious child. He was always his bro- 
ther's evil genius. Not very long afterwards he acted 
among his companions like Iscariot among the apostles. 
AA hen he saw his brother miserably entangled, he was con- 
science-stricken, and grieved because he had ruined him 
by drawing him into the snare. This was the confession of 
Judas, and I wish that like him he had hanged himself, 
before he had been guilty of the impious deed.* 

" Florentius, as is often the case Avith those who are fond 
of study, was ignorant of, and careless about, common 
things, and showed in these matters great simplicity. You 
may find some, before the down comes on their cliins, full 
grown in cunning. He had a mind for nothing else but 
his studies. For he was wholly intent upon them, and was 
drawn by the force of nature towards them, having been in 
the schools from his early childhood. His frame was deli- 
cate, but yet strong enough for mental Iciboiu". He had 
only just entered on his sixteenth year. Afterwards he 
Avas enfeebled by a quartan fever, brought on by his mean 
and sordid liA'ing, from which he suffered, at this time, 
for more than a year. Whither should a youth of this 
kind, betrayed by every one, and destitute, ignorant of the 
world, and aftiicted with disease, betake himself? Was not 
enough violence shoAvn to drive the boy to any course ? 

* Tliis brother, after this time, disappears altogetlier from liistory. 



22 TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED. 

He persevered, however, in the determination which he had 
not hastily formed. In the meantime the guardian already 
mentioned, being determined to finish what he had begun, 
suborned various persons of different sexes and conditions of 
life — monks, half monks, male and female cousins, young 
men and old men, the known and the unknown, to carry on 
the plot to its conclusion. Amongst them there were some 
naturally such simpletons, that if their sacred robe had not 
been their recommendation, they might have walked up 
and down in public as morris-dancers, having shells in 
their ears, and carrying tambours. Some there were who, 
I think, had gone wrong more from superstition than from 
wickedness ; but what matters it to a dying man whether he 
be stabbed by a fool, or by a man of a perverse disposition ? 
With how many battering-rams was the mind of that boy 
shaken ! One brought before him the lovely image of mo- 
nastic tranquillity, exhibiting that kind of life in the best 
possible point of view, and another, in a very tragic man- 
ner, exaggerated the dangers of the world, as if monks 
lived out of it, as they paint themselves, in a strong ship, 
while every one else is tossed about on the waves, certain to 
perish unless they throw out to him a pole or a rope. 
Another terrified him by fabulous tales. A traveller, 
wearied, sat down on the back of a dragon, thinking that 
it was the trunk of a tree. The dragon being roused, an- 
grily turned its head and devoured him. So the world de- 
vours its votaries. Some one had happened to pay a visit 
to a monastery. He was strongly urged to remain in it, 
but persisted in his determination of leaving it. After his 
departure, a lion met him on his way and tore the unhappy 
wretch to pieces. Not to be too tedious, every kind of 
engine was directed against the mind of a simple boy, left 
alone through the perfidy of his brother, and of a weak 
constitution. They carried on their designs against him 



TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED. 23 

with as much care, zeal, and vigilance, as if their object had 
been to take an opulent city. Of so much importance it 
seemed to these men, who were worse than Pharisees, to 
bury one breathing and living youth. He was in genius, 
learning, and eloquence, beyond his age. They hoped, 
therefore, that he would be a great ornament to their fra- 
ternity. 

" While he was in the situation just described, and was 
looking round to see if there vrere any probability that any 
saint would appear to show him the way of escape from 
these men, he happened to visit a certain monastery in the 
neighbourhood of the city where he then resided. He 
found there one Cantelius, with whom he had been brought 
up from his early childhood. This man was some years 
older than himself, a crafty man, and^one who always looked 
to his own interest. He had entered tlie monastery not so 
much from piety, as from the love of good living and of 
idleness. In learning he had made little progress, but was 
a good singer, having cultivated his A^oice from his early 
boyhood. He had been an unsuccessful fortune-hunter in 
Italy. When his parents, like birds of ill-omen, constantly 
reminded him of their small income, and of the number of 
their children, he chose a monastic life, which has this 
recommendation, that it affords the means of subsistence 
to many children who would otherwise perish from 
hunger. Cantelius, 'on hearing what progress Florentius 
had made in his studies, at once thinking of the part 
which he must act, showed a surprising affection for this 
kind of life, and exhorted him to enter upon it ; he gave 
him a wonderful description of it; he exaggerated its 
blessed tranquillity, liberty, • and concord ; in short, repre- 
sented it to him as the fellowship of angels. He told him 
repeatedly that his monastery contained a large number of 
books, and that its inmates had plenty of time for study, 



24 TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED. 

thus showing his knowledge of the bait with which he 
could catch him. In short, if you had heard him speak, 
you would have said that it was not a monastery, but the 
garden of the muses. Florentius, who was open-hearted, 
and of the age when we often feel a great affection for some 
of our associates, had a strong and boyish love for Cantelius,- 
which was the stronger as he had unexpectedly met with him 
after a long separation. He was not yet a good judge of 
character. Cantelius left no stone unturned to influence 
the boy, but he was unsuccessful. 

" Florentius, after that conversation, was exposed to a 
still stronger attack from others. They had prepared more 
powerful battering-rams. They reminded him of the des- 
perate condition of his affairs, of the enmity of all his 
friends, and lastly that he would perish from starvation — af 
all kinds of death the most miserable — unless he renounced 
the world. After having been for a long time tormented 
by them without being shaken in his purpose, he went back 
to Cantelius, merely to have some conversation with him. 
The latter now used every effort to attach him to himself 
in private as his tutor. Florentius was wonderfully in- 
clined to form friendships, and very willing to comply 
with the requests of his friends. When, therefore, he 
was incessantly worried, and was altogether destitute of 
hope, he went to a monastery, not that which his guardian, 
intended for him, but that in which he had found his old 
friend. It was a place so pestilential and unhealthy, that it 
was scarcely fit for oxen, much less for a man of delicate 
frame. But young men have not learnt to take account of 
food, of climate, or of locality. He did not, however, go 
to it with the intention of enrolling himself in the frater- 
nity, but that he might escape from his tormentors, hoping 
that in time there might be a change for the better in his 
circumstances. 



TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED. 25 

" In tlie meantime Canteliiis persevered in his self-allot- 
ted task, taking advantage of the good-natnre and simpli- 
city of his companion. For Florentius sometimes read to 
him privately in one night a comedy of Terence, so that in 
a few months they finished, in their secret nocturnal meet- 
ings, the works of the principal authors. In order that 
Florentius might not draw back, every indulgence was 
given to him. The lad was gratified with the society of his 
equals. They sang, they indulged in pastimes, they com- 
peted with each other in making verses. He had a dispen- 
sation from fasts. No one warned or reproved him ; all 
smiled upon him. Several months were thus spent by him 
without reflection. When the day was at hand for putting 
off the secular, and putting on the sacred vestments, Floren- 
tius, returning to himself, began to sing his old song, and 
to beg the guardians whom he had chosen to gi^^e him his- 
liberty. Then again cruel threats were used, and he was 
reminded that his affairs were desperate unless he perse- 
vered in what he had so well begun. Cantelius, who did 
not want to lose his nightly tutor, to whom he paid nothing, 
here acted his part very well. What was this, I ask, but 
doing violence to a simple, inexperienced, and unreflectiug 
boy ? In short, the robe was thrown upon him against his 
wiU, although it was well known that his mind was not at 
all changed. After this was done, the boy was again de- 
ceived by flattery and indulgence. Thus nearly a whole 
year again passed away without reflection, and in the midst 
of amusements. 

*' He had now almost found that this kind of life was 
good neither for mind nor body. For to his mind nothing 
was agreeable but his studies. But in this place no im- 
portance was attached to them, and there was no occasion 
for them. He was piously dis|)osed, but he was not pleased 
with the singing and the ceremonies in Avhich nearly the 



26 DISLIKE OF A MONASTIC LIFE. 

whole of their life was passed. You may easily imagine 
what a trial it is to a disciple of the Muses to pass his life 
in the midst of men like these. There is no hope of free- 
dom for him unless he should happen to be placed at the 
head of a nunnery, which is of all kinds of slavery the 
worst. For independently of the continual charge of the 
females, he has to pass his time idly in convivial banquets. 
The bodj!^ of the youth, moreover, was naturally so little able 
to endure fasting, that if, not thinking about it, he did not 
take his food till some time later than the usual hour, he 
was frequently in danger of losing his life. Internal pains 
and a fainting lit reminded him of his state. He had also, 
from his early childhood to the age at which he had arrived, 
another unfortunate peculiarity, which he could never 
lose. He could not sleep till late at night, and if his 
sleep were once interrupted, he could not sleep again for 
a long time. How much did he lament in conversation 
that he could not enjoy those precious hours, and that the 
best part of the day was lost in sleep ! How often did he 
make violent efforts to change his nature, but to no purpose ! 
His dislike for fish was so great that the mere smell gave 
him a bad headache, not unaccompanied with fever. What 
could such a mind, such a body, do in a monastery, espe- 
cially in one of this description ? Just as much as a fish 
could do in a field, or an ox on the ocean. The fathers 
were not ignorant of these things. If there had been in 
them a grain of true charity, ought they not, when they 
considered his boyish ignorance or thoughtlessness, to have 
come to his assistance with their advice, and to have thus 
addressed him 1 — ^ My son, it is foolish for you to strive in 
vain. You are not suited for a monastery, and it is not 
suitable for you. Seek another kind of life. Christ dwells 
not here only, but everywhere. True piety may be found 
under any vestment. We will do our best to propitiate 



TEMPTATIONS CONTIIJUED. Ii7 

joiir guardians, and to ensure your return in freedom to 
them and to your friends. Thus you will not be a burden 
to us, and we shall not be the cause of your ruin.' This 
would have been a proper address to make to him. 

" No one, however, gave him a word of advice. Xay, 
rather, they exerted every effort to prevent that unhappy 
fish from escaping from the net. One said that it was the 
plan of Satan, at such a crisis, to employ every art, evevj 
device, to cause the fall of the youthful disciple of Christ. 
If the latter fought this battle bravely, his future course 
would be smooth, and even delightful. lie affirmed that 
his own experience had been of this description ; but that 
now he seemed to be living in Paradise. Another reminded 
him of the great danger to which he exposed himself, and 
that St. Augustine might, in his anger, visit him. with a 
signal calamity on account of the insult offered to him in 
forsaking the monastery. Several dreadful instances of his 
anger were mentioned. One had contracted an incurable 
•disease ; another had been struck dead by lightning ; an- 
other had died from the bite of a viper. They added that 
the wearing of the robe was, in fact, taking upon himself 
the profession of a monk ; and that to give it up now, was 
the same crime in God's eyes, and would expose him to the 
same infamy among his fellow-creatures, as if he had gone 
away after having taken the vow. Every kind of weapon 
was directed against the youth : but none was more formid- 
able than the fear of infamy. ' A^ow/ they would say, ' it 
is too late to retreat ; you have put your hand to the plough 
and must not look back ; if you lay aside the robe which 
you have received in the presence of many mtnesses, you 
will make yourself the talk of the world. Where will you 
go 1 You will never again be able to come into the society 
of good men. You will be execrated by the monks, and an 
object of detestation to every one.' Now the youth had the 



28 ERASMUS A MONK. 

modesty of a virgin, and dreaded deatli less than infamy. 
He was assailed on the other side by his guardians and 
friends, some of whom had stolen his property. In short, 
viilany carried the day. The youth, with inward abhor- 
rence, and with unwilling words, was compelled to put his 
head into the noose, just as prisoners in war give their hands 
to the conqueror to be bound, or as those who are overcome 
by protracted tortures, act not according to their own wishes, 
but those of the man who has gained the power over them, 

" In the meantime the youth acted like those who are shut 
up in prison. He solaced himself as far as possible with his 
studies. This work he must do privately, though he might 
be intoxicated openly. Accordingly, he beguiled the tedium 
of his imprisonment with light literature, until, in an un- 
looked-for manner, God showed him the way of escape. He 
was called by a powerful bishop into his family, and after- 
wards went to a celebrated University. If this good fortune 
had not befallen him, his remarkable abilities would have 
been Jost in idleness, effeminate pleasures, and convivial 
banquets." 

This is, in its main features, a correct description of 
this period of his life. The letter certainly shows some 
self-conceit. The false friend here referred to, Cante- 
iius, was Cornelius Verden, a former school-fellow at De- 
venter. On the return of Verden from Italy, he had 
entered the monastery of Emxaus, or Stein, near Gouda. 
His motives for doing so are well described by Erasmus. 
We find also in the above letter a reference to the fact that 
Verden dissuaded him from entering the monastery pro- 
posed by his guardians, and induced hira to enter the monas- 
tery at Stein. To the description here given, may be added 
the following brief extract from his letter to Servatius, the 
prior of the monastery at Stein, written many years after 
this time, in reply to one in which the prior endeavoured 



HIS FIRST WORKS. 29 

to persuade him to return to it. '' You know well," he 
writes, "that it was by the pertinacity of my guardians, and 
the persuasion of wicked men, that I was forced, rather than 
induced, to enter the monastic life. ... Be this as it may, 
I never liked the monastic life ; and I liked it less than ever 
after I had tried it ; but I was ensnared in the way I have 
mentioned. . . . Whenever the thought has occurred to me 
of returning to your fraternity, it has always called back to 
my remembrance the jealousy of many, the contempt of all ; 
converse how cold, how trifling! how lacking in Christian 
wisdom ! feastings more fit for the laity ! — the mode of life, 
-as a whole, one which, if you subtract its ceremonies from 
it, has nothing left that seems to me worth having."* 

Erasmus fortunately found in the monastery a young- 
man, Herman of Tergau, of literary ardour equal to his 
own. They spent their days and nights in study, commu- 
nicated the results to each other, and each profited by the 
observations of his friend. The friendship thus begun lasted 
through life. His hours of relaxation were employed in 
painting. From this monastery his first two letters are 
dated. They show that he had begun to form his admirable 
style. They were written to Cornelius Aurotinus, a priest 
of Tergau, in which he defends with great zeal the celebrated 
Laurenthis Valla against his contemptuous treatment.t He 
tells us also that he attempted several kinds of verse. He 
likewise composed, during his residence in the monastery, an 
ode in honour of spring, the alternate verses of which were 
written by Herman; a treatise on the contempt of the 
world, J the style of which shows that he had carefully studied 
the best Latin writers ; a treatise on the " Peace of the Soul ;" 
and a funeral oration on Bertha de Heyer, a widow of 

* Op., torn. iii. page 1527, edit. Lugd. 
+ Op., torn. iii. p. 268, edit. Bas. 
t Op., torn. V. p. 1239, edit. Lugd. 



30 A MEAN- ACTION. 

Tergau, wlio, he informs us, had been his refuge in want, 
his comfort in distress ; who had given him excellent coun- 
sel, and had shown to him the same regard which she 
showed to her children.* 

Le Clerc tells a story of him at this time of his life which 
shows that " the child is father to the man," and that even 
then, as in future years, deceit, and a want of moral courage, 
were his conspicuous failings. In the garden of the monas- 
tery was a pear-tree, bearing exquisite fruit, which the 
superior had reserved entirely to himself. Erasmus had 
tasted these pears, and liked them so well that he was 
tempted to steal them in the early morning. The superior, 
missing the pears, rose early to detect the thief. Erasmus 
ascended the tree, and was devouring the pears one after 
the other, when a noise made by the superior showed him 
that he was watched. On musing with himself how he 
should escape undiscovered, it occurred to him to imitate 
the limp of a lame lay brother in the monastery. Accord- 
ingly, sliding down the tree, he walked with a limping gait 
towards the house. The suspicions of the superior imme- 
diately fell upon the unhappy monk. He charged him with 
the offence, and, notwithstanding his protestations of inno- 
cence, inflicted upon him a very severe penance.t 

We gather from the foregoing letter that the fish diets, the 
long fasts at the monastery, the interruptions of sleep, dis- 
agreed with him. Devoted as he was to study, he was 
grieved that so long a proportion of the twenty-four hours 
was spent in spiritual exercises and religious ceremonies. 
He was isolated, also, except from one or two congenial 
friends. He could not conceal the contempt with which he 
regarded the members of the fraternity. At length, after 
five years, which were not altogether lost, Henry de Bergis, 

* Op., torn. viii. 552 E., edit. Lugd. 
t "Bib. Univ.," s. 7, p. 141. 



EESIDENCE AT CAMBEAT. 31 

Bishop of Cambray, the person referred to at the close of 
the above extract, having heard of his fame, and thinking 
that he was a suitable person to accompany him as private 
secretary to Eome, whither he was going in the hope of 
obtaining a cardinal's hat, applied to the Bishop of Utrecht, 
in whose diocese Stein was situated, to the general of the 
order of Canons Eegular, and to the prior, for their per- 
mission for him to leave the monastery. Their consent was 
immediately obtained ; and Erasmus gladly accepted the 
offer. The bishop, however, abandoned his design ; but 
Erasmus continued with him at Cambray, and took holy 
orders in 1492. At length, after five years, during which 
time he continued his studies and made some valuable 
friendships, the bishop, in compliance with his urgent re- 
quest, promised to give him the means of prosecuting his 
studies at the famous Montaigu College at Paris. He 
entered it in 1496, when he was in his 29th year. 

At this time the course of study to be followed by everj^ 
student was divided into rudiments (including reading and 
arithmetic), grammar, syntax, poetry, rhetoric, philosophy, 
and theology. Two years were assigned to the rudiments, 
one to grammar, one to syntax, one to poetry, one to rhe- 
toric, two to philosophy, and four to theology. Thus twelve 
years were required to complete a regular course of study. 
The universities at Paris and Bologna were the most cele- 
brated on the continent. The former was famous for its 
schools of philosophy and theology ; the latter for its school 
of law. Erasmus chose Paris, because his object was to 
perfect himself in theology. He had obtained a student's 
place at the college mentioned above; and immediately 
after his arrival he took possession of it. 

About this time he formed an acquaintance with the Mar- 
chioness de Vere, who resided with her tutor Battus at the 
castle of Tournahens. She was the widow of Philip, the 



32 MONTAIGU COLLEGE AT PAEIS. 

son of Antony of Burgundy. Erasmus says of her : "I 
cannot describe in adequate terms the goodness or liberahty 
of this worthy lady." The marchioness was equally pleased 
with him, and settled on him an annual pension of 100 
florins. This pension was, however, seldom regularly paid. 
The bishop also failed in the fulfilment of his promise. 
Erasmus was now obliged, by an increase of ill health, to 
return to his patron at Cambray. From the want of money 
he had been unable to obtain proper food or lodgings, and 
his constitution was thus permanently injured. We shall at 
•once see how his residence at the college produced this 
effect when we read the description of it which he has given 
in his colloquy entitled " Icthyophagia."* He tells us that 
he brought away from it a constitution full of unhealthy 
humours, and an immense quantity of vermin. Over that 
college, he says, presided one John Standin, a man not of a 
bad disposition, but very injudicious. What with hard 
Ibeds, a scanty supply of bad food, vigils, and hard labours, 
he had seen, in the first year of his experience, many youths 
of great genius and of high promise, some of whom actually 
died, some were afflicted during the rest of their lives with 
blindness, madness, and leprosy. " Was not this," he asks, 
^'the very refinement of cruelty? . . . This treatment," he 
-adds, "was not confined to those in humble circumstances ; 
it extended also to not a few sons of wealthy men, whose 
noble disposition he quite ruined. It is the duty of a father 
to restrain the lasciviousness of youth by reason and mode- 
ration. But who ever heard, in the depth of a hard winter, 
of a morsel of bread being given to satisfy the cravings of 
hunger ; of any one being ordered in the early morning to 
get water to drink from the well, which is not only pesti- 
lential and unwholesome, but also at that hour is frozen ? 

* " CoUoquia cum notis selectis variorum, accurante C, Sclirevellio," 
-edit. Lugd., 1664, p. 504. 



vow TO ST. GENEVIEVE. 33 

I know many who have thus contracted diseases which they 
have never lost. Some sleeping apartments were on the 
.ground-floor, having mouldy plaster walls, near pestilential 
latrinse. All who lodged in them were sure to die, or to 
have a bad illness. I must not omit to mention that even 
those who had done no wrong were flogged without mercy. 
Thus, they say, pride is humbled, meaning by that word a 
noble disposition, which they purposely break, to make a 
man fit for a monastery. How many putrid sheep were 
eaten there ! How much mouldy wine was drunk ! These 
evils may have been corrected ; but too late for those who 
"have either died, or contracted disease in consequence of 
them." 

After staying for a time at Cambray, he returned to Paris. 
Here he fell seriously ill. When his illness was at its 
lieight, he had recourse to the intercession of St. Genevieve, 
and made a solemn promise that, if he recovered his health, 
he would celebrate her praises in poetry. His vow was, he 
says, no sooner made than the fever left him. He then thanks 
lier for her condescension in interposing on his behalf.'* This 
mixture of seriousness and irony is the same which he after- 
wards displayed when, in his Colloquy, " Peregrinatio reli- 
gionis ergo," and his other pieces, he attacked the super- 
stitions of the dominant church. 

The irregularity of the bishop and marchioness in paying 
their pensions now often reduced him to the greatest dis- 
tress. He was obliged to add to his scanty means by 
taking pupils, and he was very successful in inspiring them 
with a love of learning, and formed strong attachments to 
them. One of them was Lord Mountjoy, who had been 
page of honour to Prince Henry, afterwards Henry VIH. 
Thus began a life-long friendship, which, as we shall see 
directly, was the means of bringing him to England. Lord 
* Ep. 154, app., edit. Lugd. 

3 



34 AEEIVAL IN ENGLAND. 

Mountjoy removed liiui to better lodgings, and settled on 
him a pension of 100 crowns. Another pupil was Thomas 
Grey, son of the Marquis of Dorset. An offer was also made 
to him to educate an ignorant English youth for a bishopric* 
He was to have 100 crowns to teach him for one year, and 
was promised a benefice in a few months, and a loan of 300 
crowns till he obtained it. Erasmus, however, not feeling 
inclined to waste his time in training a dull youth, declined 
the proposal. This necessity of taking pupils was a 
great hindrance to him in the prosecution of his studies. 
His progress was also retarded by constant ill health, caused, 
as we have, seen, by scanty food and hard beds, as well as 
by rigid vigils and labours. He lost time also by frequent 
visits to Holland, to look after the remains of his patrimony. 
In England, however, he began to be known, and to gather 
round him a host of friends. By his untiring industry, he 
had already laid the foundation of that learning which has 
been the means of transmitting his name with honour to 
generations then unborn. 

Erasmus arrived in England in 1498, in the train of the 
young Lord Mountjoy. Immediately after his arrival he 
repaired to the University of Oxford. He was not at 
this time generally known; but was forcing his way to 
celebrity. In going to Oxford, his object was to join 
that little band of men north of the Alps, who, as we have 
seen in our introductory chapter, were here applying them- 
selves with ardour to the study of the Greek language and 
literature. Among them were W. Grocyn, Latimer, and 
Linacre. The last was physician to Henrys YII. and VIII., 
and founder of the Eoyal College of Physicians in London. 

* Knight, in his *' Life of Erasmus," p. 19, says that the person here 
alluded to was James Stanley, son of Thomas, Earl of Derby, and 
Margaret, Countess of Eichmond, made Bishop of Ely in 1506 ; but 
the statement is incorrect. 



JOH]Sr COLET. • 35 

Under Grocyn's instruction Erasmus made great progress, 
and, as Gibbon has justly observed, learnt Greek at Oxford 
to teacli it at Cambridge.^ 

He did not, at the time, foresee the purpose to which 
the knowledge thus obtained might be applied, and 
that he was sharpening and polishing a weapon which, 
wielded by his own hand and the hands of others, would 
smite down the principalities and powers of darkness. His 
wish was simply to gratify the longing for knowledge which 
had become the passion of his life. Already the shadows of 
evening were falling upon his path. The sunken eye, the 
wan and wasted countenance, the form bent as if from the 
infirmities of old age, showed very plainly that he had 
known that '-weariness of the flesh" which springs from 
excessive study, and gave warning that hard mental toil and 
a meagre diet had undermined his constitution, and seemed 
likely at the time to bring him to a premature grave. 

His great friend at Oxford was John Colet, afterwards the 
celebrated Dean of St. Paul's, and founder of St. Paul's 
School, a son of Sir Henry Colet, a wealthy city merchant, 
who had been twice Lord Mayor of London. He had been 
early sent to the University of Oxford ; afterwards taking 
orders, he had been presented to a living in Suffolk, and a 
prebend in Yorkshire. Colet had wilhngly sacrificed the 
wealth which he might have accumulated if he had followed 
his father's occupation, as well as the prospect of distinction 
in the service of the state, which, through his father's influ- 
ence at court, presented itself to him. The sole survivor of 
a family of twenty-two brothers and sisters, he had for- 
saken those temples in the great metropolis where Plea- 
sure erected her throne and assembled constantly crowds of 
her worshippers, that he might devote himself at Oxford to 

* Erasmus took up his abode at Oxford at the College of St. Mar}-. 
Its gateway, nearly opposite Xew Iiiu Hall, is still standing, 

3—2 



36 COLET m ITALY, 

the study of the Scriptures, and to the propagation of the 
results of that study among all who came within reach of 
his influence. When Erasmus came to Oxford, he was 
lecturing on the Epistles of St. Paul. 

Colet had just returned from Italy, where he had been 
applying himself diligently to the study of the Greek 
language. Happily he had escaped the contaminating in- 
fluence of those who, at this time of the revival of classical 
literature, professed belief in the philosophy of Plato, Aris- 
totle, and Pliny, and treated Christianity as a cunningly- 
devised fable; "who," as Lord Macaulay writes, ''^regarded 
those Christian mysteries, of which they were stewards, just 
as the Augur Cicero and the High Pontiff" Csesar regarded 
the Sibylline books and the pecking of the sacred chickens ; 
who, among themselves, spoke of the Incarnation, the 
Eucharist, and the Trinity in the same tone in which Cotta 
and Velleius talked of the oracle of Delphi, or the voice of 
Faunus in the mountains."* He had been led to quench his 
thirst in a purer fountain than any which sparkled amid the 
" consecrated bowers " of Athens. 

At the time of Colet's visit, Alexander VI. wore the 
papal tiara. The vice and profligacy which prevailed in his 
court were enough to disenchant the most ardent admirer 
of the papal system. His palace was the scene of Baccha- 
nalian orgies. Licentious songs, swelled by a chorus of revel- 
lers, echoed through its banqueting-hall. The^Pope himself 
quaffed large draughts of wine from the foaming goblet. 
The grossest venality prevailed in the papal court. The 
highest dignities in the Church were conferred without 
shame on the best bidder. We may suppose that thus 
an earnest desire was awakened in Colet's mind for a re- 
formation of the Church of Eome in its head and its mem- 

" Essay on Ranke's ' Lives of the Popes.' " 



SATO^'AEOLA. 37 

bers. "We may imagine also, with a recent writer,* that 
he had heard at Florence how Savonarola, the celebrated 
prior of San Marco, horror-stricken at the revival of pagan- 
ism in a Christian citj, and at the vice and scepticism which 
very generally prevailed, had determined to confine himself 
almost entirely to prayerful meditation on the records of 
heavenly truth. 'We may fancy that he had often been 
a member of those crowded congregations in the Duomo of 
Florence, which hstened spell-bound to the burning words 
of this preacher of righteousness, t as, carefully expounding 
the Scriptures, he denounced the Di\-ine vengeance upon the 
rulers of the Church and the inhabitants of Italy for their 
vices and crimes ; and that he had witnessed the wonderful 
effect produced by his oratory when the citizens, whose lives 
had hitherto been one long hohday, read the word of God 
as they pursued their accustomed occupation?, and banished 
from their walls that sensuality which had lifted its unblush- 
ing front in her streets in the full light of day.J Thus then 
he had been led to expound the Scriptures at Oxford, hoping 
that through the influence of his hearers, many of whom 
" would go everywhere preaching the word,'' he should pro- 
mote the onward march of moral and spiritual improve- 
ment. 

The schoolmen had liitherto reigned supreme at Oxford, 
They held the verbal inspiration of Scripture j they fixed 
attention upon single verses, to which they attached differ- 
ent senses, and wasted their time in employing them to 
carry on subtle and unprofitable discjuisitions on such sub- 

"^ 'Mi. Frederick Seebolim, in liis work "Tlie Oxford Eeformers of 
1498," p. 7. 

+ Colet left England in tke year 1494 on Ms way to Italy, Then lie 
must iiave been twenty -three years of age, — Seebolim's "Oxford Ee- 
formers." 

:J: Savonarola preaclied bis first sermon in the Duomo or Cathedral 
of Florence in Lent, 1491. 



38 THE SOHOOLMEK 

jects as these : — ^^Vhether we shall eat and drink after tlie 
resurrection? Whether angels can be in more than one 
place at the same time ? What was the physical condition 
of the human body in paradise ? Whether Christ could 
have taken upon Him the nature of a woman or an ass ? 
Their appetite for this kind of strife was insatiable. They 
became heated by argument, and continued to dispute on 
these trifling questions as though their eternal destiny 
depended on the settlement of them. To their rash specu- 
lations the words of the poet may be applied : 

''Fools rush in where angels fear to tread." 

They dared even to pry into the secrets of Jehovah, to talk 
as if they had been admitted to His council-chamber, and 
knew, for instance, how He had made chaos to disappear, 
and had called the vast fabric of the heavens and the earth 
into existence ; how it was that He had caused the stain of ■ 
Adam's sin to descend to all his posterity; how it was that 
the power of the Highest had overshadowed the Virgin, when 
Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea. They dared even 
to describe minutely the infernal regions, as though they 
had themselves been admitted to that dark prison-house of 
pain.* The dust raised by these encounters as the com- 
batants met in the centre of the tilt-ground with the rever- 
beration of two mighty thunder-clouds which rush together 
in the firmament of heaven, obscured the view of those 
great and solemn truths, on the due reception and main- 
tenance of which depended their eternity. The Bible had 
become a mere arsenal of texts, which they wrested from 
their connection with the preceding passage, and employed 
for the purpose of weaving their theological subtleties. It 
had ceased to be a record of real events, or to give a con- 

"* Seethe *' Praise of Folly," bj^" Erasmus, a translation of a part 
of which is given hereafter. 



COLET AT OXFORD. 39 

nected account of tlie lives of individuals. They practically 
neglected its teacliinoj altogether. 

Against this system of the schoolmen Colet entered his 
decided protest. He looked upon Scripture as a whole, and 
not as a carefully prepared collection of texts. He endea- 
voured to ascertain the drift of the apostle's argument ; he 
compared St. Paul's statements of divine truth with those of 
St. John, in order that he might show the harmony exist- 
ing between them ; he proved that the Epistles were a series 
of letters, addressed to living men, and were designed to 
be " profitable to them for correction and instruction in 
righteousness." But while he constantly evinced his love 
for St. Paul as an earnest teacher of divine truth, he con- 
sidered that to Christ was due his devoted and dutiful 
allegiance. His hearers were now told for the first time to 
look upon the Gospels as a vivid record of the teaching of 
their adorable Eedeemer. He informed them that he had 
not found in Scripture a number of absurd propositions to 
wliich he must compel himself to yield an unqualified 
assent ; but a Being whom he could take as " his leader on 
the heavenly road," whom he could love with a love far 
stronger than he gave to any object of earthly attachment, 
and to whom he could devote that body, soul, and spirit, 
wliich are His. 

These expositions of divme truth produced a wonderful 
impression at Oxford. Multitudes flocked to hear him. 
As Erasmus says, Colet had not taken any degree in theology 
(the qualification required by the statutes for lecturing on 
the Bible) ; yet there was no doctor of the law or divinity, 
no abbot or dignitary, who did not come to hear him. 
Some no doubt came to cavil at the lecture, and to find 
matter of accusation against him, because he assailed the 
dominant school of theology at Oxford; but as we are in- 
formed that they came again and again, and brought even 



40 FEIENDS AT OXFOHD. 

their note-books,* we may reasonably conclude that they 
came at last, because they were convinced that he was 
bringing before them the fundamental tfuths of Christianity. 

Erasmus had often attended Colet's lectures, and had 
often argued with him on the system of the schoolmen. 
The study of their works had created in his mind a disgust 
for theology altogether ; but he was not yet prepared to 
abandon his allegiance to them. He spent the greater part 
of 1499 at Oxford. Prior Charnock, with whom he had 
taken up his abode at the college of St. Mary the Virgin, 
introduced him to Colet. He speaks in glowing terms of." 
the friendships which he had formed during his residence 
in the University. Now also began that intimacy with 
Thomas More, afterwards the celebrated Sir, Thomas More, 
Lord Chancellor in the reign of Henry YIII., who fell a 
victim to the arbitrary will of that monarch. He probably 
first met him in London.t His gentle and loving disposi- 
tion, as well as a similarity in their tastes and habits, had 
drawn not only Erasmus, but also the other members of the 
little band, consisting of Colet, Grocyn, and Linacre, irre- 
sistibly towards him. 

Erasmus seems to have spent the Christmas vacation of 
1499-1500 at Woodstock, or some royal hunting station. His. 
feelings in regard to this part of his life are well described 
in an amusing letter which he wrote to a friend at Paris : — 
'' As for your friend Erasmus," he said, " you would hardly 
know him. He is almost grown a good hunter, a better 
horseman, a very tolerable courtier. He can salute with 
more complaisance, he can smile with a better grace, and. 

* Op., torn. iii. p. 456, C, edit. Lugd. 

+ The story told of tlieir first meeting, when Erasmus, captivated 
with More's conversation, exclaimed, " Aut tn es Morus, aut nuUus ;'* 
to which More replied, "Aiit tu Erasmus es, aut diabolus," is 
commonly supposed to be without foundation. 



THE EXCELLENCES OF ENGLA]\'D. 41 

lias learned all these manners in spite of nature." An 
invitation is given to his friend to come to England to 
partake of these singular advantages of this country, which 
are preferable to the dulness and rudeness of France. He 
tells him that nothing but the gout could stop him, and that 
if he only knew the excellences of Britain he would pro- 
cure wings, if he had no feet, and fly over hither without 
any further delay, especially if he told him of the nymphs, 
or fair ladies, here so beautiful, so fair, and so easy, that if 
he saw them he would prefer them to his beloved muses. 
He adds, that there is a custom peculiar to this country, 
never to be enough admired, that men and women salute 
one another and kiss with the most innocent freedom at 
visiting, parting, meeting again, and again taking leave ; 
and that if he did come over and taste these pleasures he 
would here desire to spend the whole remainder of his life. 
*' We will jest out the rest," he says, " when we meet. I 
shall see you, I hope, in a very little time."''' 

Erasmus, however, soon found that these pursuits and 
pleasures, though they might amuse him for a time, Avere 
not really congenial to his inclinations, and must not be 
permitted to interrupt the solemn business of life. He was 
now pursuing learning for its own sake, that he might add 
to the vast stores of knowledge which he had already 
acquired. Colet had hoped that he would aid him in 
exposing the sophistry of the schoolmen, and that he would 
lecture on some book of the Old Testament, that he might 
assist him in imbuing the minds of the students at Oxford 
with those sound views of scriptural truth, the heartfelt 
reception of which could alone make them wise, and happy, 
and useful in this world, and prepare them for the enjoy- 
ment of the immortality beyond it. He well knew that his 
great intellectual powers peculiarly qualified him to deal 
* Op., torn, iii., p. 222., edit. Bas. 



42 DEPARTURE FROM OXFORD. 

with this subject. They had often held discussions on 
theological questions. The result of them had been that 
Erasmus began to see the absurdity of the system in which 
he had been trained ; but he was not yet prepared to do 
battle with the schoolmen. He thought that he might sus- 
tain an ignominious defeat if he endeavoured to smite down 
those foes before his weapons were properly sharpened, or he 
was sufficiently skilled in the use of them. The announce- 
ment which he now made to Colet that he must shortly 
leave Oxford, greatly disappointed him. He had indulged 
the hope that, sustained by the sympathy and ready help of 
Erasmus, his drooping courage would be revived, and he 
should be able to do valiantly in the conflict with his for- 
midable antagonists. But now these expectations were in 
vain. Erasmus, however, assured him that though he was 
not at hand to aid him in his conflict, he would endeavour 
to further his studies, and by his written words to nerve 
the arm and animate the heart of this valiant champion of 
the truthi He made to him a promise which, as we shall see 
hereafter, he fulfilled, that when he had obtained the 
requisite strength, he would openly place himself on his 
side, and aid him in beating back the foes confederate 
against him. 

Having given him this assurance, Erasmus took his de- 
parture from Oxford in the year 1500. On the 27th of 
January, he left for Dover, from which place he proposed to 
embark for the Continent. 



illSFORTUXE AT DOVEE. 43 



CKAPTEPo III. 

EETUEX TO THE COXTIXEXT. — JOHN VITRARIUS. — THE 
ADAGES. — THE EXCHIRIDIOX. — A.D. 1500 — 1505. 

Erasmus, on Hs arrival at Dover, met with, a great misfor- 
tune. It appears that Henry VII., reviving an obsolete 
statute, had forbidden the exportation of gold coin from the 
realm. The custom-house officers made use of it as a pre- 
text for searchiug him^ and for depriving him of the golden 
crowns with which he had been enriched by the bounty of 
his friends before his departure from England. 

This loss appears to bave made a great impression on 
him. In an epistle to his friend Pace, written about 
twenty years after this time, when he was speaking of his 
Commentaries, which he was afraid that he had lost, he 
says that they gave him as much concern as his misfortune 
at Dover, where he had lost his all.''' The immediate conse- 
c[uence of this loss was that he was obliged to abandon the 
idea of proceeding to Italy, and to work hard at Paris that 
he might procure the means of subsistence. He now worked 
at his collection of " Adages or Proverbial Sajdngs of the 
Ancients," partly with the design just referred to, partly that 
he might improve himself in the Greek language. The 
prevalence of the plague at Paris drove him first of all to 

'"' Op., torn. iii. p. 454, edit. Bas. 



44 PANEGTEIC ON PEIIS'CE PHILIP. 

Orleans, and then to Holland. He could not, as lie informs 
us, endure the long and substantial repasts of the inhabi- 
tants, their devotion to gain, and their insensibility to 
literature.'* He afterwards returned to France, and took up 
his abode at Tournahens, the residence, as we have seen, of 
the Marchioness of Vere, and her friend Battus, her tutor. 
He here wrote, in the year 1501, his famous Enchiridion, 
which I shall presently describe. 

One of the excursions from Paris which he made after 
this time was to the Low Countries. When Prince Philip 
returned from Spain, the States of Brabant asked Erasmus 
to pronounce a panegyric upon him. AYith great reluctance 
he undertook to do so. "I foresaw," he writes to Colet, 
"that such a thing could not be done without adulation." 
He spoke it in the palace at Brussels on the 6th of January, 
1504, in the presence of nearly all the nobility. His address 
gave great satisfaction. Erasmus received congratulations 
upon it from every part of Europe. Philip gave him fifty 
pieces of gold, and offered him a place in his palace. Eras- 
mus, however, declined it. 

The following passage from the panegyric shows the par- 
tiality of Erasmus for Paris: — "This city has advantages, 
one even of which it is difficult to find in most towns — a 
flourishing clergy, an almost unrivalled school, a senate as 
venerable as Areopagus, as celebrated as the Amphictyonic, 
as illustrious as the ancient senate of Rome. By their 
happy assistance the greatest blessings are united in their 
city — enlightened religion, profound learning, and the ad- 
ministration of justice. The clergy are learned ; the learned 
are pious j and both learning and piety are united in the 
senators."t 

-=^ He called Holland "Beer and Butter Land. "— MiiUer, p. 232. 
+ The title of this address is the following : " The paneg3^ric ad- 
dressed by Desiderius Erasmus, in the name of the whole country, tO' 



JOHN VITRAKIUS. 45 

It was while lie was staying with, his friend the mar- 
chioness that he became acquainted with John Yitrarius, 
the recluse monk of St. Omer, of whose character he has 
given a beautiful and eloquent description in a letter to his 
friend, Justus Jonas.* He always joined together the 
names of Colet and Yitrarius, as men remarkable for their 
love of Evangelical truth and for their personal holiness. 
He showed him his Enchiridion, and obtained his approval 
of the work.t The following extract from the letter just 
referred to exhibits to us, among other features in his cha- 
racter, the zeal with which he denounced the vices of the 
clergy and the corruptions of the Church of Rome : — 

" Yitrarius was nearly forty-four years old when I became 
acquainted with him. Immediately he began to form an 
attachment to me, though a man very unlike himself He 
had much influence with many excellent men, and was very 
popular with many persons of high rank. He was tall, had 
an elegant person, was remarkable for his talents, and pos- 
sessed an elevated mind. When he was a boy he made 
himself acquainted with the works of the Scotists. He did 
not altogether condemn them, as there were to be found in 
them some good things badly expressed; but yet he had 
not an exalted opinion of them. He admired no one who 
wrote religious works more than Origen. When I told 
liim that I was surprised that he should approve of the 
writings of a heretic, he answered, with great energy, 
that he could not imagine that a mind from which had pro- 
ceeded so many works, remarkable for their learning, and 

the most illustrious Prince Philip of Burgundy, on tlie subject of his 
triumphal departure to Spain and his happy return." — Op., torn. 
iv. p.397, edit. Bas. 

* Op., torn. iii. p. 451, edit. Lugd. 

+ Catalogus Lucubrationum procfixus, Op. tom. primo. Eras. 
Joanni Botzhemo, edit. Bas. 



46 JOHlSr. VITEARIUS. 

exhibiting so mucli fervour, was not influenced by the Holy 
Spirit. 

^' Though he by no means approved of that mode of life 
into which, in the ignorance of youth, he had entered of his 
own accord, or been enticed by others, constantly telling 
me that it was the life rather of madmen than of those who 
were truly religious, to go to sleep, to awake, to go to sleep 
again, to speak, to be silent, to go, to return, to take, or to 
abstain from food at the sound of the bell, — in a word, to 
do everything, rather according to the commandments of 
men than according to the rule of Christ, and that nothing 
was more unjust than the equality among so many who 
were really unequal, chiefly because often heavenly minds, 
and minds framed for better things, were buried beneath 
the weight of ceremonies and human ordinances, or were 
lost through the envy of others around them ; yet he never 
recommended any one to change his mode of life, and he did 
not himself design anything of the kind, being prepared 
rather to endure everything than to give ofi'ence to any one, 
proposing St. Paul as an example to himself in this matter. 
He had studied so carefully the sacred books, especially 
the Epistles of St. Paul, that no one knew better his nails 
and fingers, than he the writings of that apostle. If you 
gave him the beginning of any part, he would tell you the 
whole of the remainder of the Epistle without a single mis- 
take. He could say from memory many parts of St. Am- 
brose. You would scarcely believe how much of the works 
of other orthodox writers he knew by heart. For this ad- 
vantage he was indebted partly to the retentiveness of his 
memory, partly to continual study. When I asked him, as 
we were conversing together, what preparation he made for 
preaching, he answered that he usually took up St. Paul's 
Epistles, and continued to read them till he found a flame 
kindled in his breast. In this meditation he persevered. 



JOHX YITEARIUS. 47 

adding, besides, burning words of prayer, till lie was re- 
minded that it was time to besrin. He did not make di- 
visions in his sermons — a plan so much adopted by preachers 
that you would fancy that they might not act otherwise ; 
thus the di^dsion is often without meaninsj. It also lessens 
the fervour of the discourse ; for, by showing art, it makes 
you think that the preacher is insincere. But Yitrarius, by 
making his sermon flow on continuously, so joined the sacred 
Epistle with the reading of the Gospel, that his hearers went 
home, not only instructed, but with a zeal for true religion. 
He did not, lilie so many preachers, trifle with his hearers 
by gesticulations, nor did he deafen them by shouting, 
but he so spoke that you might at once see that his 
words proceeded from a glowing, and simple, but from a 
sober heart. He did not at any time linger so long 
on his theme as to cause weariness, nor did he with much 
pomp cite various authorities — now referring his readers to 
Scotus, now to Thomas, now to Durandus, or to the works on 
the civil or canon law, that the multitude might think highly 
of his knowledge. His discourse was full of Holy Scripture, 
nor could he speak of anything else. His heart was in his 
subject. He was influenced by a burning desire of drawing 
men to the true philosophy of Christ, such as you could 
hardly believe to exist. 

" After labours of this kind, he was ambitious of the glory 
of martyrdom. As I have learnt from his intimate friends, 
he had obtained permission from the heads of his fraternity 
to visit those regions in which Christ is not known, or is 
worshipped in an impious manner, thinking that he should 
"be happy if, when he came there, he should win the mar- 
tyr's crovm. But as he was in the middle of his journey, 
he heard, as it were, a voice from heaven which said, 
*Eeturn, John, you shall suffer martyrdom in your own 
country.' He obeyed the voice, and found that what it had 



48 JOH]Sr VITEARIUS. 

told him was true. There was a house in which the religi- 
ous life had so decayed, that it seemed more like a brothel 
than a nunnery. And yet amongst its inmates were some 
who could be, and who wished to be, reformed. While by 
frequent addresses and exhortations he was recalling them 
to Christ, eight of the number, who were past all hope of 
recover}^, conspired against him, and having watched their 
opportunity, dragged him apart, and having bound him 
with handkerchiefs, attempted to strangle him. Nor did 
they desist, till some by chance coming in, interrupted 
them in the commission of their abominable crime. He 
was at this time half dead, and was with difficulty recalled 
to ' life ; yet he never made any complaint even to those 
whom he accounted his intimate friends, and he still did 
everything in his usual ma,nner to help forward the work 
of their salvation. Even when he looked at them, his 
countenance did not wear a more sorrowful expression than 
heretofore. He knew very well who ^v2l§ the chief con- 
spirator. He was a Dominican divine, a man who openly 
led a very wicked life, ^et ^he never harmed him even by 
a word, although he was augry with no class of men more 
than with those who, professing themselves to be the 
teachers of, and the guides to, true religion, alienated the 
people from Christ by their life and wicked teaching. 

"Occasionally he preached seven times a day, and he 
never wanted an abundance of matter for a learned sermon 
when he had occasion to speak about Christ. Yet the wliole 
of his life was nothing more than an eloquent sermon. So 
far from being reserved, he was cheerful in company ; but 
yet there was never in him the least appearance of levity 
or of trifling, far less of excess or of intemperance. He 
interlarded^ his conversation with learned observations, for 
the most part of a sacred character, and tending to the 
advancement of piety. Such was his conversation when he 



JOHN" VITRARIUS. 49 

received or returned a visit. If he went on a journey, his 
great friends sometimes lent him a mule or a horse, that 
he might the more easily hold a conversation with them. 
Then this most excellent man uttered in a cheerful manner 
words which no jewels could purchase. He sent away no 
one from him sorrowing, or who was not the better for 
having been with him, or who was not inflamed with a 
greater love for piety. You would never find him consult- 
ing his own interest. He was not obnoxious to the charge 
of gluttony, ambition, avarice, pleasure, hatred, envy, or of 
indulgingany other evil affection. In everything he gave 
thanks to God, and he had no greater pleasure than to find 
that he had been successful in inflaming men with a love 
for evangelical piety. His efi'orts were not in vain. He 
won many men and women to Christ, whose death clearly 
showed how much they difi^ered from the common herd of 
the people. You would see his disciples dying with the^ 
greatest joy, and on the approach of death singing like 
swans, speaking in a manner which clearly showed that 
they were the subjects of a divine influence ; while others, 
trusting in the religious rites which they had observed, and 
in the solemn protestations which they had made, breathed 
out their souls in uncertainty. 

" Ghibertus, an excellent physician of the town, and a very 
pious man, who has been present at the death-beds of many 
of both schools, can bear witness to the truth of the preceding 
assertions. . . . The very pure soul of Vitrarius had an 
ntter abhorrence of all vices, but especially of lust, and was 
truly a temple dedicated to Christ. He was greatly ofiended 
with the least reference to this last vice, and could not 
endure obscene language. He never spoke against vice in a 
manner which showed anger or hatred, and never disclosed 
the secrets of the confessional ; but he painted such a pic- 
ture of virtue, that every one in the secret recesses of his 

4 



50 JOHN VITEAEIUS. 

heart knew whether or no it was a faithful likeness of him- 
self. In giving advice he showed wonderful wisdom, 
integrity, and judgment. 

" He was not very willing to hear private confessions ; but 
yet, in this matter also, he observed the law of Christian 
charity. . . . He openly expressed his dislike of anxious 
and repeated confessions. He attached very little import- 
ance to superstitious rites and ceremonies. He ate in mode- 
ration, and with thanksgiving, certain kinds of food. His 
clothing did not differ at all from that of other men. Often, 
on account of his health, he went on a journey whenever he 
found himself unwell. One day, when he was going through 
his allotted exercise of morning prayer with his companion, 
and was suffering from sickness arising from the want of 
food the day before, entering the nearest house, he took 
some food, and, before continuing his journey, began to 
pray. When his companion thought that he must say over 
all his prayers from the beginning, because he had taken 
food after saying the prayers assigned to the first hour, he 
cheerfully replied, that no sin had been committed, nay, 
that God would be a gainer. ' Before,' he said, ' we prayed 
with languor and heaviness; now, with joyful minds, we 
shall sing to Him spiritual hymns ; and He is always pleased 
with those offerings which come from a cheerful giver.' I 
liappened at that time to be staying with Antonius a Bergis, 
the Abbot of St, Bertin. We did not usually dine till after 
the middle of the day, and my stomach could not bear for so 
long the want of food (for it was Lent), especially as my 
mind was wholly given to my studies. Accordingly, it was 
my practice before dinner to fortify myself with a little 
warm broth^ that I might not suffer from the pangs of hun- 
ger before the dinner-hour arrived. When I asked him 
whether it was lawful for me to do so, he, looking at the lay 
companion whom he had with him, and being careful not to 



JOHN VITEARIUS. 51 

give him offence, replied, ' You would have done wrong if 
youhadnot done so, and by the want of food hindered your- 
self from prosecuting your sacred studies, and injured your 
health.' 

" When Pope Alexander had appointed two jubilees in- 
stead of one, in order that he might increase his gains, and 
the Bishop of Tournay had, at his own risk, purchased the 
indulgence from him, the commissaries used every effort 
that he might not be a loser, but rather a gainer by the 
transaction. Here, in the first place, those were called to 
act their part, who were the most popular preachers. Vi- 
trarius, seeing that money which was applied to the relief 
of the poor, was thrown into the box, did not disapprove 
of what the pope offered, and yet he did not approve of it. 
But certainly he was displeased because the poor were de- 
prived of their usual relief; he condemned the foolish con- 
fidence of those who thought that when they had thrown 
their money into the box their sins would be pardoned. At 
length the commissaries made a present of 100 florins 
towards the erection of the church which was then being 
bmlt in the convent, so that if he could not recommend the 
pope's pardons, he might at least say nothing about the 
injurious effect of them. But, as it were divinely inspired, 
lie exclaimed, ^ Away, ye Simonists, with your money. Do 
you suppose that I am a man who, for money, will suppress 
evangelical truth? If thus I put an end to your gains, 
I ought to have more regard for souls than for your 
profit.' The men, whose consciences told them that they were 
doing wrong, drew back when they heard these strong words 
addressed to them by one whose heart was under the influence 
of evangelical truth. Contrary, however, to expectation, 
very early in the morning, a sentence of excommunication 
was affixed to the walls, which was taken down by a citizen 
before it became known to many. He, not at all terrified 

4—2 



52 JOHN VITEAEIUS. 

by these threats, with the greatest calmness taught the- 
people, and devoted himself to the service of his Saviour, 
not fearing any anathema which was hurled against him for 
preaching Christ. 

" You will now be glad to hear what became of him after- 
wards. He not only displeased the commissaries, but also 
some of the brethren, not because they disapproved of his 
manner of life, but because it was better than they liked it 
to be. He was altogether intent upon winning souls ; but 
in the culinary department, in building, or in drawing rich 
young men into the monastery, he was not so active as they 
wished him to be. Still this most excellent man did not 
neglect matters of this kind ; but if anything were required 
for the relief of the wants of others, he did not follow the 
example of many, but paid very great attention to them. 
. . . When, from living in the same place with him, one 
after another grew up, who, under the influence of a similar 
spirit, sought rather to promote Christian piety than to fill 
their larder, they banished him to a small convent at Cour- 
tray. There, as far as he was allowed to do so, still like 
himself, teaching, consoling, and exhorting, he ended his life 
in peace, leaving behind him some little books in French^, 
the fruit of his scriptural studies, which, I doubt not, are 
such as were his conversation and manner of life. And yet 
I know that he is now condemned by some who think that 
there is great danger if the people read anything besides the 
trifling stories of history, or the dreams of the monks. A 
spark of his doctrine still lives in the breasts of many. If 
you compare them with others, you will say that the latter 
are not Christians, but Jews. In such contempt that re- 
markable man was held by his own body. If he had been 
the colleague of the Apostle Paul, I do not doubt that he 
w^ould have preferred him to Barnabas or Timothy. You 
have now before you our paragon, Vitrarius, unknown ta> 



STUDY OF GREEK. 53 

the world, but distinguislied and' illustrious in the kingdom 
of Christ." 

Notwithstanding the kindness of the friends lately referred 
to, often, in the years from 1501 to 1505, Erasmus gave way 
to despondency. It had now become the settled purpose of 
his life to separate himself as far as possible from secular, and 
to apply himself to Scripture studies. "I struggle," he 
wrote to Colet, " to devote myself to the study of sacred 
literature : I hate everything which detains me from it." 
All his pursuits were considered by him as important only 
so far as they were subservient to the attainment of that 
end. But constant ill fortune had hitherto attended his 
efforts. Those years had been passed in a constant struggle 
with poverty. He had been obliged to engage in literary 
work which, as he says, " had ceased to be pleasant to him," 
that he might procure the means of subsistence and of pro- 
secuting his studies. He says that he should purchase first 
Greek authors, next clothes. He complains that v/ant of 
money hindered him from finishing some treatises, because 
it forced him to spend much of his time in reading lectures 
to young students. But he persevered in his self-allotted 
task. He had laboured for three years at Greek, because 
he considered that without it he could do nothing in any 
branch of study. He had endeavoured to master the Hebrew 
tongue, but had failed in doing so, in all probability, from 
the want of proper instruction.'* Thus, then, this poor 
student had worked on in failing health, amid difl&culties 
which would have daunted the courage of an ordinary man, 
animated mth the single desire of serving God faithfully, 
and doing good in his day and generation, by preparing 
himself to devote, as we shall see hereafter, the powers with 
which He had gifted him to the investigation and defence 

* Op., torn. iii. p. 351, edit. Bas. 



54 THE ADAGES. 

of Christian truth, as well as to its propagation throughout 
the continent of Europe. 

The first edition of the Adages was printed at Paris in 
1500. It consisted of 800 proverbs, and was dedicated to 
Lord Mount] oy, having been designed to aid him inhis studies. 
It seems to have been compiled in a few days, during his 
intervals of leisure from more important occupations. In 
the year 1508 he published a second edition of this work, 
because, as he says in a letter to Colet^ the first was imper- 
fectly executed by him, and badly printed.* During the 
time which had elapsed since the publication of the first 
edition, he had been engaged in collecting a great number 
of adages. He had obtained many of them from various 
friends, who kindly lent him their manuscripts. This work 
is a monument of the extent of his reading, of his great 
industry, and of his profound erudition. In it he traces to their 
origin all the strange sayings in the classic writers. It was 
received with great applause. We stand amazed when we 
contemplate that ardour in the pursuit of learning which 
led him, at a time when many classical works existed only 
in manuscript, and were scattered in various parts of Europe^ 
to persevere until he had collected at first 3200 proverbs, 
and afterwards more than 4000, having searched for them 
with that care which was necessary — since, as he says in hi& 
proverb, "Herculei labores,t" ''the labours of Hercules," 
"adages, because they are very small, sometimes escape the 
eyes which look most closely for them," — as well in those- 
more obscure classical writers whose names even have been 
scarcely known to the learned of succeeding generations, as 
in the writings of every one of those poets, orators, philoso- 
phers, and historians of ancient Greece and Eome, who 



* Op., torn. iii. p. 352, edit. Bas. 

t Op., torn. ii. p. 707 C., sqq., edit. Lugd. 



SCAEABEUS AQUILAM QU^RIT. OD 

have erected for themselves in them^ a durable monu- 
ment. 

This work contains, not only those which may be more 
strictly denominated proverbs, but also most of the remark- 
able sayings or phrases in the works of the ancients. We find, 
on an examination of it, that the sayings and proverbs — "Use 
is a second nature;" " One swallow doesnot make a summer " 
(which he interprets to mean that one day is not sufficient to 
acquire virtue or learning) ; " Let the cobbler stick to his 
last ;" '^ "While there is life there is hope /' " To have one 
foot in the grave ;" together with many more of a similar 
kind which are constantly used amongst us, were used also 
in the streets of Athens and Rome in the days of those 
mighty monarchs who have moulded the taste and genius of 
mankind in every succeeding age of the world's history. 
When the work had been improved by alterations and ad- 
ditions, it became the best key to classical authors of any in 
that age. The G-reek quotations were afterwards carefully 
translated into Latin, so that many would find assistance 
from it in the study of the former language. 

But unquestionably the most interesting part of the work 
contains those digressions introduced in later editions, in 
which he animadverts in the strongest terms on the vices, 
follies, and crimes of popes, monarchs, statesmen, monks, and 
people, in the age in which he lived. Thus, in writing on 
the proverb, " Scarabeus aquilam quserit 3"'^ or, '^ The beetle 
pursues the eagle," he compares the monarchs of his day to 
the king of birds in his threatening and terrible shriek — an 
appropriate symbol of those imperious mandates which 
spread terror among all ranks of human society, so that they 
crouch in vassalage before them ; in his determination to seek 
a larger space for his depredations, and not to sa3"er any 
other robber in the neighbourhood — a fit representation of 
* Op., torn. ii. p. 859 A., sqq., edit. Lugd. 



5Q SILENI ALCIBIADIS. 

that lust of conquest whicli leads human eagles to aim con- 
tinually at the extension of the boundaries of their empire, 
or the limits within which they have a right to plunder ; and 
in his eyes, which are sharper than those of the lynx, and 
can gaze steadfastly on the sun when shining in his meridian 
splendour — thus reminding us of those numerous officials, 
whose watchful eyes can discover everything even when hid- 
den in the most secret places, which may serve as food for 
the cravings of their master's insatiable appetite. 

Again, in the proverb, "Sileni Alcibiadis,"* he first 
shows that, just as the unprepossessing images of Silenus, 
the foster-father of Bacchus, seen in ancient Greece, to 
which Alcibiades compared Socrates, when the outside was 
removed, disclosed the features of a god to the astonished 
and delighted view, so many things and persons which 
appear to be mean and insignificant are really worthy of our 
highest admiration j and then he proceeds to present a reverse 
to the picture, and to show that appearances are deceitful also 
as to many objects and classes of men which appear beautiful, 
and deserving of all the praise which we can bestow upon 
them. " If you look, for instance, at the mitres of some of 
our bishops, glittering with gold and with gems, their 
jewelled pastoral staff, and all their mystic panoply, you 
would expect to find them more than men ; but if you open 
the Silenus, you will find within only a soldier, a trader, or 
a tyrant. Take again the case of those whom you may meet 
with everywhere. If you look at their shaggy beard, their 
pale face, their cowl, their bent heads, their girdle, their 
sour looks, you would say that they were remarkable for 
their piety ; but if you look inside the Silenus, you will find 
only rogues, gluttons, impostors, debauchees, robbers, and 
tyrants." ... A similar mistake is made as to names. " We 
call," he says, " priests, bishops, and popes the Church, al- 
* Op., torn. ii. p. 770 C, sqq., edit. Liigd. 



SILENI ALCIBIADIS. oj 

though they are only ministers of the Church ; for the 
Church is the whole Christian people. And of the Chur3h 
we say that she appears in honour and splendour, not 
when piety is increased and vice is diminished, when good 
morals are prevalent and true doctrine flourishes, but when 
the altars are embellished with gold and jewels ; or rather 
when, religion being totally neglected, the prelates rival 
temporal lords in lands, domestics, in luxury, in mules, in 
horses, in houses, or rather in palaces^ in everything that 
makes a show and a noise. This is thought so just a man- 
ner of thinking and speaking, that even in papal bulls these 
encomiums may be found : ' Forasmuch as Cardinal A., by 
his sumptuous equipage, and numerous train of horses and 
domestics, does singular honour to the Church of Christ, we 
think it right to add to his preferments another bishopric' " 
He afterwards proceeds by an obvious and easy transition 
to speak against the wealth and temporal power of the 
Pope. He says that, while he wishes that priests should 
reign, he considers that earthly dominion is unworthy of 
the heavenly calling ; that while he desires that they should 
be rich, it must be with the gospel pearl, with the heavenly 
jiches. " Why," he says, " should you sully their purity 
with the defilements of the world ? Why do you estimate 
the successor of Peter by that wealth which Peter himself 
boasts that he does not possess ?* Why do you wish the 
vicars of Christ to be entangled with the riches which 
Christ Himself has called thorns ?"t He then proceeds to 
show that an ecclesiastical government must be greatly 
prejudicial to the welfare of its subjects. One of the rea- 
sons which he assigns is, that as the Popes know from their 
advanced age that their tenure of power must be short, and 
that their dominions cannot descend to their posterity, they 
will labour chiefly for the aggrandizement of their families, 
* Acts iii. 6. + Matt. xiii. 22. 



58 THE ENCHIRIDIOIT. 

and the promotion of their own private interests, and will 
create offices for their relations which will absorb the 
revenues of the state. Thus, then, Erasmus describes that 
system of management which, continued through successive 
ages, had, like the deadly night-shade, shed a pestilential 
blight over the land. Thus, even while speaking of ancient 
literature, he lost no opportunity of censuring those corrup- 
tions which had now become intensified to a degree beyond 
the possibility of human endurance. 

From some letters written about this time it appears that 
he intended to publish the works of St. Jerome, and that he 
was quite delighted with this father, whom he greatly extols ; 
and in a sort of ecstasy promises himself the assistance of the 
saint in this laborious undertaking.''" He published in 1503 
his justly celebrated "Enchiridion," to which reference has 
been already made. Erasmus has informed us of the occasion 
on which he composed this book, in a letter to Botzhem, con- 
taining a catalogue of his works, t He and Battus had a 
friend staying in the castle of Tournahens at the time 
mentioned above, who had a wife of singular piety. He 
was a man of very bad character, and treated his wife 
wdth great inhumanity. As she saw that Erasmus was the 
only theologian for whom he had the least respect, she 
asked Battus to request him to write something which 
might be the means of effecting a reformation in him. He 
was not, however, to inform him that he had done so at her 
instigation. Erasmus at once complied with his request, 
and wrote the " Enchiridion, the Christian Soldier's Dagger, 
or Manual,"^ a name probably derived from the military 

* Jortin's "Life of Eras.," vol. i. p. 17. 

+ Eras. Epist. Botzhemo, given in Jortin's "Life of Eras.," vol. ii. 
p. 428. 

X He gives this meaning in the following words, Op., torn. v. p. 
10, edit. Bas. : " As you would doubtless be glad of help from us we 



1 



THE EK"CHIKIDION. 59 

profession of the man for whose benefit it was intended. 
Unfortunately it did not produce the desired effect upon 
him. He said that there was much more hohness in the 
book than in the author. At first it had no sale. The 
Dominicans, however, afterwards increased the circulation 
of it by raising a clamour against it. They were very 
angry with Erasmus, because he condemned those who made 
religion consist in the performance of outward rites and 
ceremonies, while they altogether denied the power of god- 
liness. We are informed that in the library of the Domini- 
cans of St. John and St. Paul at Venice, there are two rows 
of wooden statues, one of the Eoman Catholic, the other of 
the heretical doctors. Among the latter stands Erasmus, 
loaded with chains, and covered with labels full of re- 
proaches against him, as also against Luther and Calvin ; 
but those who were more moderate were content to repre- 
sent him as suspended between heaA^en and hell.* 

The best proof that the " Encliiridion " was considered as 
a means of aiding the progress of the Eeformation, is to be 
found in the fact, ^that while at first it had a Hmited circu- 
lation, no sooner had Luther begun his work than it became 
a favourite with his followers, and passed through numerous 
editions. It was translated into Italian, French, Spanish, 
German, and English. The translation into the last lan- 
guage was made by the celebrated Tyndale. It was after- 
wards re-issued in an abridged form by Coverdale. It was 
read in Spain even by the Emperor Charles Y., as weU as 
by all orders of the community.t The printers could not 
print it quickly enough to meet the demand for it.i It 

have forged an 'Encliiridion,' or Little Dagger, wliicli you should 
not lay down, even at j'our meals, or during your sleeping hours." 

* Jortin's '* Life of Erasmus," vol. ii. p. 67. 

t Yives Erasmo, Op., torn. iii. p. 538., edit, Bas. 

J Joannes Maldonatus Erasmo, Op., torn. iii. p. 715, edit, Lugd. 



60 THE ENCHIEIDIOl?'. 

afterwards ceased to be popular in Spain, because it was 
found to promote the progress of the Reformation ; and it 
was condemned by the Sorbonne in 1543, and was burnt 
by order of the Parliament of Paris, with many other pro- 
Mbited books. 

An examination of this celebrated work will enable us to 
see clearly the position which Erasmus occupied from the 
very first with reference to the great questions which were 
shortly to agitate Christendom.* We shall thus discover 
hereafter that he never swerved from the opinions expressed 
on points of doctrine at the beginning of his memorable 
career. We can easily see how this work must have aided 
the Reformation. To this point we shall return in a future 
chapter. Meanwhile we may observe, that very little im- 
portance is attached in it to the distinctive views of Rom- 
anists. He condemned the folly of those who hoped by 
pilgrimages, or by " parchments sealed with wax, or by a 
small sum of money, to be purified from their guilt ;"t he 
insists on the worthlessness of all outward observances, and 
acts of piety and charity, when the heart and life are un- 
holy j he reminds the Romanists of his day that they 
" must not consider how many psalms they murmur, nor 
think that much speaking is a merit in prayer ;" and that 
it is not the prayer uttered with the lips, but the ardent 
one from the heart, which reaches the ears of God. J 

But while we admit that by the expression of these 
opinions he promoted the progress of the Reformation, we 
may gather from this work that he did not hold those 
which Luther and his associates considered to be the funda- 
mental doctrines of Christianity. He does, indeed, allude 
to Adam's transgression, and to our redemption by Christ 
Jesus ; but he does not make these truths the foundation of 

* Op., torn. V, p. 1, sqq., edit. Bas. 
t P. 32. t P. 7. 



THE EXCHIEIDIOI?', CI 

his system. He does not hold with Luther that man is 
averse from good, and inclined only to evil ; and that he 
has naturally neither the power nor the inclination to enter 
on the path of holy ohedience. On the contrary, he main- 
tains that " the soul, mindful of its heavenly birth, with the 
greatest energy mounts upwards and strives with its earthly 
incumbrance."* He also says that "in man reason dis- 
charges the duties of a king ; that divine counsellor presid- 
ing in its lofty citadel, mindful of its origin, does not admit 
a thought of baseness nor impurity. "t AYe shall find that 
he held the same view manj^ years afterwards, when we 
sj)eak of his treatise on the freedom of the will. He does 
indeed teach us that '• faith is the only gate to Christ j"i 
but then he also states that those " go straight to Christ 
who aim at virtue only," and that by Christ he understands 
"not an unmeaning word, but love, singleness, patience, 
purity :"§ in short, all those virtues and excellences which 
most dignify and adorn human nature. In fact we see 
here, as we shall see more particularly hereafter, that his 
great object is to inculcate the practical part of Christianity. 
The faith here spoken of has reference, not to the Saviour's 
righteousness, but to God's promises and threatenings as 
they are brought before us in the Scriptures ; to the " far 
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory," reserved for 
the righteous in the mansions of the blessed, and to the 
never-ending misery wliicli awaits the impenitent in the 
regions of despair. We learn also from this treatise that he 
held the meritoriousness of good works; for, speaking of the 
sorrows and difficulties of the Christian, he says, '• These 
all will be added to the sum of your merits, if they shall 
find you in the way of Christ /'|| and that he could not 
accept that doctrine of justification by faith in Christ's 

* P. 12. t P. 13. X P. 19. § P. 22. II P. 21. 



'62 THE ENCHIRIDION. 

righteousness, whicli Luther calls the article of a standing 
or falling church. 

While we notice this divergence from the views of the 
reformers, we cannot fail to observe that this treatise is 
remarkable for the spirit of piety which breathes throughout 
it, and that it contains some important practical precepts. 
He represents, for instance, in the following striking and 
beautiful passage, prayer and knowledge as the weapons to 
be wielded by us if we would conquer in that terrible con- 
flict with the world, the flesh, and the devil, which all the 
sworn soldiers of the cross must maintain as long as they 
continue in the tabernacle of the flesh : " Paul wishes us to 
be armed when he tells us to pray without ceasing. The 
devout prayer raises the affections to Heaven, a citadel 
inaccessible to our enemies. . . . Always, therefore, remem- 
ber, as soon as the enemy assails you, when the sins which 
you have forsaken tempt you, to lift up your heart with 
confidence to Heaven, from whence succour will come to 
you. . . . But you must not despise the assistance of know- 
ledge. Believe me, my dearest brother, that there is no 
assault of the enemy, however violent, no temptation, how- 
ever strong, which a diligent study of the Scriptures cannot 
enable you to overcome ; no affliction, however heavy, 
which it cannot give you strength to endure."* But still it is 
perfectly evident that he holds that this victory over the 
Tempter, the diligent endeavour also to walk in the path 
of virtue, and to exhibit a transcript, however faint, of 
those excellences which shone forth with unimpaired and 
^undiminished brightness in the all-perfect character of our 
divine Master, are the only means by which we can obtain 
that imperishable reward which shall be conferred on all 
those who have been faithful unto death on the great day of 
the Redeemer's appearing. 

* Pp. 6, 7., 



SECOIs'D VISIT TO EXGLAXD. 



CHAPTER IV. 

SECOND VISIT TO ENGLAND. — JOURNEY TO ITALY. — DESCRIP- 
TION OF GERMAN INNS— RETURN TO ENGLANT). — THE 
"PRAISE OF FOLLY." — A.D. 1505 — 1510. 

At the close of 1505 Erasmus again paid a ^dsit to England. 
He was received with open arms by his little band of 
Oxford friends, and took up his abode at More's house. 

He was at this time the greatest Transalpine scholar. 
Budseus surpassed him in Greek, but he had no rival in 
Latin. Just before his departure from Paris he had given 
a plain proof that he was continuing his Biblical studies by 
bringing out an edition of Laurentius Yalla's " Annotations 
upon the New Testament," in a letter prefixed to which he 
boldly expressed the opinion that the Vidgate was mani- 
festly at fault, and ought to be corrected.'^ He seemed, 
however, after his arrival in England, not to be very eager 
about theological literature. We find him busily engaged 
with his friend More in translating Lucian into Latin.t 

* Eras, C. Fiscliero, Op., torn. iii. p. 190, edit. Bas. 

t Some of the private friends, referred to afterwards, to whom he 
dedicated parts of the work, were Archbishop "Warham ; Dr. Eichard 
Fox, Bishop of Winchester ; Thomas HuthaU, afterwards Bishop of 
Durham ; ' and Christopher Ursewick, for many years chaplain to 
Henry VII. To the first he dedicated several pieces ; to the second 
" Toxaris, or Friendship ;" to the third " Timon, or the Misanthro- 
pist ;" to the fourth the "Mycillus." 



64 DECLAMATION" AGAINST LUCIAN. 

"We miglit almost imagine that More had diverted his 
thoaghts from that which he considered at present to be 
the great business of his life ; for he persuaded him to 
write at the same time with himself, in order to exercise 
their skill, a declamation in Latin against Lucian's " Pro 
Tyrannicida." Erasmus sent his part, with a dedication, 
to a friend, Richard Whitford, chaplain to Lord Mountjoy, 
telling him that having been for some years wholly occupied 
with the study of the Greek language, he had attempted a 
little Essay in Latin, by the advice or impulse of Mr. More^ 
a man of so much eloquence that he could persuade even an 
enemy to do anything for him, much more a friend like 
Erasmus, who loved him so much that if he were to direct 
him to dance, or to do anything else, he should immediately 
obey him. He adds, " He has a tongue equal to his wit, a 
very agreeable manner, a great deal of smartness, but yet 
on the candid and inoffensive side only, so that nothing is 
wanting to make him the best advocate in the present 
age."* 

But Erasmus was really prosecuting ^his design with 
an unfaltering purpose. He had long felt that, before he 
could translate the New Testament into Latin, he must 
improve himself in Greek. He says, in a letter written 
some years after he left Oxford, that he had determined to 
devote himself to theological studies, and had attempted to 
write an explanation of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, 
but that he had been obliged to abandon his design for the 
present, as he could do nothing without the Greek lan- 
guage.t In early life he had not learnt any more of it 
than the alphabet. J He had, indeed, as we have seen, 

* Op., torn. i. p. 228, edit. Bas. 
+ Epist. Coleto, Op., torn, iii, p. 351, edit. Bas. 
J Epist. Antonio a Bergis, Abbate S. Bertini, Op,, torn. iii. p. 325, 
edit, Bas. 



STUDY OF GSEEK. Qo 

studied it at Oxford ; but still we find that he had brought 
away little more than a love of the language from that 
University. From a letter to his friend Battus we learn, 
that he had applied himself very diligently to Greek at 
Paris j that his hard work had almost killed him; and that 
he had no money to buy books, or to employ a master.* 
We are also informed that he had made very little progress 
in it in that city, and that he had been his own master, hav- 
ing improved himself by translating Greek authors ; for the 
Professor, George Hermonymus, was neither able nor willing 
to teach it.t He had therefore resolved, when he arrived in 
England, to translate Lucian, in the sale of which he endea- 
voured to interest private friends byVIedicating portions of the 
work to them, as well as to engage in other occupations which 
served to withdraw him from sacred duties, not only that he 
might improve himself in Greek, but also that he might raise 
money enough to enable him to carry out a design which, as 
we have seen, he had been compelled to abandon, and to pay 
a visit to Italy, where he hoped to be instructed in Greek by 
some of those emigrants who, after the fall of Constantinople, 
were unfolding the beauties of its authors to the astonished 
-and delighted view of the inhabitants of that country. 

He also in other ways endeavoured to raise money for the 
accomplishment of his object. He gives an amusing account 
of a visit which he paid to Warham, Archbishop of Canter- 
bury, for that purpose. This was the beginning of their ac- 
quaintance. The latter seems to have received him very 
kindly, to have invited him to dinner, and to have had some 
■conversation with him. Erasmus presented to him a Latin 
translation of the Hecuba of Euripides, which he had dedi- 
cated to him. On rising to take leave, Yf arham made him a 

* Eras. Epist. Batto suo. Kjaight's Life. 

+ Eras . Catalogus operum ab ipso conscriptiis, Tom. primo prae- 
iixus. Edit. Bas. 

5 



66 VISIT TO AECHBISHOP WABHAM. 

present in money, but privately, in order, as he said, that he- 
might not excite the envy of others. While he was returning 
in the boat from Lambeth Palace with Grocyn, who had intro- 
duced him to the archbishop, his friend asked him how much 
he had given him. Erasmus answered in a jesting tone, " An 
immense sum." Observing a smile on Grocyn's counte- 
nance, he said, " Do you think that the Archbishop has so 
mean a spirit that he should not be willing, or so small an 
income that he should not be able, to make me a handsome 
present ? or do you think that the book deserves no great- 
acknowledgment f At last he told him what Warham had 
really given to him. On expressing his surprise that he had 
not given him more, Grocyn told him that the reason was 
that the archbishop thought that he had dedicated the work 
to some other patron in another country. Having been 
asked how he could imagine that he had done so, he an- 
swered in a tone of derision, " Why, you are accustomed to 
do so /' meaning that needy travellers often acted in this 
manner.* 

Erasmus appears to have spent some months of the spring 
of 1506 with his friends in this country. He now found 
that, through their kindness, he could at length pay 
his long-wished-for visit to Itsiij. An arrangement was 
made that he should take with him as his companions two 
sons of Doctor Baptista, physician to Henry VIII. He was 
also to have under his care Alexander, Archbishop of St. 
Andrews, natural son to James, King of Scotland. He 
found him pursuing his studies at Padua. Both in that city, 
and afterwards when they met at Sienna, he took charge of 
his instruction. In his "Adages" he has given a high charac- 
ter of him, and in his Treatise " de Conscribendis Epistolis," 

* Erasmi Catalogns Lucubrationum, prsefixus Op. torn, primo. 
Eras. Joanni Botzhemo. Edit. Bas. 



DESCEIPTION OP GERMAIT INNS. 6T 

lie calls him "a young man of genius and of great pro- 
mise/'^ He was a student of rhetoric, Greek, law, divinity, 
music; remarkable for his beauty, and of an amiable dis- 
position. On his return to Scotland, he was slain by his 
father's side at the battle of Flodden Field.t Erasmus 
hoped, by taking charge of these pupils, to pay his travelling 
expenses. Thus he left England and proceeded on his 
journey, having, before his departure from Paris, expressed 
an earnest hope in his letters to his friends that he should 
soon return, never more to be separated from them. 

On his way to Italy, Erasmus passed through Germany, 
accompanied by those who had been placed under his care. 
They were gentle youths, and easily managed ; but their 
attendant, who looked after their conduct, was rude and 
troublesome. The connectioii soon terminated. As to 
his experience of men and manners at the German inns 
where he lodged every night after his toilsome journey on. 
horseback, Erasmus was indebted for many of the ideas 
which he has worked out in his remarkable satire, " The 
Praise of Folly," it may be well to give a translation 
of a Latin conversation respecting them in his Colloquy, 
" Diversoria."J The persons who converse are Bertulphus 
and Gulielmus : — 

GrU. — I have never visited Germany : I should be much 
obliged to you therefore to inform me how the inhabitants 
receive a guest. 

Ber. — I do not know whether they have everywhere the 
same way of entertaining visitors ; I will tell you what I have 
seen myself. No one bids his guests welcome, lest he should 

* Op. torn. i. p. 313. Edit. Bas. " Adolescens ingeniosus, mirceq[ue 
spei." 

+ " Jortin's Life," vol. i; p. 292. 
X Op. torn. i. p. 603, edit. Bas. 

5—2 



'68 DESCEIPTION OF GEEMAIT UllsQ. 

vseem to want them to come to tlie inn ; for tliey consider 
sucli a proceeding mean, and not becoming to the German 
gravity. When you have called for a long time, at length 
some one puts his head out of the oven windoAV (for they 
commonly live in ovens till Midsummer), like a tortoise from 
under its shell. Him you must ask if you can have accom- 
modation there. If he does not say no, you are to under- 
stand that you can have it. When you ask where the stable 
is, he points to it. There you must groom your own horse 
in your own way, for not a servant will stir to help you. 
If the inn should be one of note, the servant will show you 
the stable ; but you will not find in it proper accommodation 
for your horse. The best stalls are kept for future visitors, 
especially for the nobility. If you make any objection, you 
are immediately told that you may go to another inn. In 
the cities you get hay with great difficulty and in very small 
quantities, and as much is charged for it as for oats. When 
you have taken care of your horse, you may go to a room 
heated like an oven, along with boots, baggage, and filth. 
That is the place to which all must go. 

Chi'. — In France they show you bedchambers, where you 
may take off your clothes, make yourself clean, warm your- 
self, or rest if you like. 

JBer. — Here you find nothing of the kind. In the room 
just mentioned you take off your boots, you put on your 
shoes, you change your shirt if you wish to do so, you hang 
up your dripping garments near the fire, you come to it to 
-dry yourself. You can have water there if you wish to 
wash your hands, but very often it is so dirty that you must 
ask for some more to wash away what it leaves behind it. 

Gu. — I think well of men who are not effeminate. 

Ber. — If you arrive at four o'clock in the afternoon, you 
will not have your supper till nine, sometimes not till ten. 

Gu.—Whj so ? 



DESCRIPTIOIT OP GEEMAIT INNS. 69 

Ber. — They will get nothing ready till they see all their 
visitors. The same trouble must do for all. 

Gu. — They gain by this way of managing matters. 

Ber. — Yes. In the same oven are often assembled eighty 
or ninety footmen, riders, merchants, sailors, coachmen, hus- 
bandmen, children, women, sick, and sound. 

G-u. — This is having all things common. 

Ber. — There one combs his hair, another wipes away the 
sweat from his skin, another cleans his shoes or boots, 
another spits out garlic. In short, there is the same confu- 
sion of tongues and of persons there as there was formerly 
in the building of Babel. If they see a foreigner, whose de- 
portment shows him to be a man of quality, all keep their 
eyes fixed upon him, looking at him as if he were a new kind 
of strange animal brought from Africa; and when they are set 
at table, and he behind them, they will still be looking back 
at him and staring at him till they have forgotten their supper. 
It is a great sin to ask for anything. When it is late in the 
evening, and no more guests are expected, an old servant, 
of a forbidding aspect, with a white beard, with his hair cut 
short, and in mean apparel, comes in. He looks round, and 
counts to himself the number in the oven. The more there 
are, the hotter the oven is made. If any one not accustomed 
to the steam should open the window ever so little, fearing 
suffocation, immediately he hears him crying out, "Shut 
it." If you say .that you cannot bear it, you are told to 
go to another inn. . . . Presently in comes our bearded 
Ganymede, and covers the tables with as many napkins as 
there are guests ; not damask ones, but such as you would 
take to be made out of old sails. He places at least eight 
at each table. Those who know the custom of the country 
sit down where they please ; for no difference is made be- 
tween prince and peasant, between master and servant. 
When all have taken their seats, that sour-looking Gany- 



70 DSSCRIPTIOlir OF GEEMAN INNS. 

rnede again comes in, and counts his company over again. 
Soon returning, lie puts before each a wooden dish, and a 
spoon of the same silver, and then a glass, and then, a little 
afterwards, some bread, which the guests may wipe over and 
over again at their leisure while the porridge is boiling. 
Thus sometimes they sit for nearly an hour. 

Gu. — Do none of the guests in the meantime call out for 
food? 

Ber. — No one who knows the custom of the country. Then 
the wine is produced — words cannot describe its sourness. 
If any one should offer money privately, and should ask for 
another sort of wine, they at first deny that they have it, 
looking at him all the time as if they would kill him ; if you 
press them for it, they answer, '■ Marquises and counts have 
lodged here, and no one has complained of my wine : if you 
do not like it, go to another inn." Then, as the guests are very 
hungry, hunches of bread are given to them. Afterwards, 
with great pomp, come the dishes. Commonly the first con- 
tains pieces of bread steeped in broth made of flesh, or, if it 
is a fish day, in soup made of pulse. Afterwards comes in 
another soup, and then a dish of butcher's meat that has 
been twice boiled, or salt meats warmed again, and then 
pulse again, and afterwards some more solid food. Then, 
when the cravings of hunger are satisfied, they bring some 
roast meat or stewed fish, not altogether to be despised, but 
in small quantities, and these dishes are soon taken away. 
You give great offence if you say, '•' Take away this dish, no 
one wants it." You must sit for the time appointed, which is 
measured by an hour-glass. Afterwards a better wine is 
produced. Great drinkers have the best of it ; for he' who 
drinks much pays no more than he who drinks scarcely 
■any. 

Gic. — Who ever heard of such a thing ! 

Ber. — Some drink a quantity of wine that costs more 



DESCRIPTION OF GERMAN INNS. 71 

than twice as niucli as tlieir sapper. You would be aston- 
ished if you heard the confusion when they have become 
somewhat the worse for liquor. Buffoons, that most detest- 
able set of men, often mingle with the company. You will 
perhaps scarcely believe me when I tell you that the Ger- 
mans are very partial to them. They sing, chatter, shout, 
jump, and knock, so that you would fancy that the room 
was going to fall in. You cannot hear what any one says to 
you. They think this a pleasant way of living ; and you 
must sit, whether you wish it or not, till late at night. . . . 
At length, when the cheese is taken away, which scarcely 
pleases them unless it be putrid and full of maggots, the 
bearded fellow of whom I have spoken comes in again, 
carrying a trencher, marked with circles and semi-circles in 
chalk, which he places on the table. He saj'S nothing, and 
looks so grim that you might fancy him to be Charon. 
Those who understand the meaning of this put down their 
money one after another till the trencher is full. Having 
taken notice of those who lay down, he reckons it up him- 
self, and if all be paid, he gives 3'ou a nod. 

Gu. — But what if there should be anything over and 
above ? 

Ber. — Perhaps he will give it you again ; and they some- 
times do. 

Gil — Does no one find fault with the reckoning ? 

Ber. — ISTo one that is wise ; for . they will at once say, 
^- What sort of a man are you ? You pay no more than the 
Test." 

Gu. — That is plain speaking, at any rate. 

Ber. — If any one tired with his journey wishes to go to 
bed after supper, he is told that he must wait till the others 
are ready to do so. Then each is shown to his bed-chamber ; 
and in truth it is rightly so named, for there is only a bed 
in it, and nothing else which you can use or steal. There 



72 AEEIVAL m ITALY. 

is tlie same dirt in it as in the inn 3 the sheets were washed 
perhaps six months ago. 

Gu. — What in the meantime becomes of the horses 1 

Ber. — They are treated in the same manner as the men. 

Gu. — Are all the inns the same ? 

Ber. — ^Some are better, some are worse than those which 
I have described, but this is the general character of them. . . 

Thus, then, this sickly scholar, who needed to be well 
fed and well tended, was treated on his journey to Italy. 
Though he was not more than forty years old, he al- 
ready felt, in consequence of hard work, the infirmities of 
old age creeping upon him, as he complains in a beautiful 
Latin poem, forming a contrast in regard to beauty to his. 
other poems, addressed to William Cope, a physician, which 
he composed on horseback as he was crossing the Alps.''' He 
afterwards wrote it out at the inn where he stopped for the 
night. He says that his head is sprinkled with gray hairs, 
and that his chin, fast becoming white, warns him that the 
spring-time of life has passed away, and that the winter of 
old age is rapidly approaching. 

Soon after his arrival in Italy he took the degree of Doc- 
tor of Divinity at the University of Turin, where he resided 
for some weeks. He then went to Bologna. He had hardly 
arrived when the city was besieged by Pope Julius, of whose 
warlike enterprises, and their effect on his mind, I shall 
speak hereafter. He then went to Florence, and returned 
to Bologna to see the triumphal entrj^ of the pope into the 
city. He constantly expressed afterwards his strong disap- 
proval of the pomp exhibited by the head of the Roman 
Catholic Church on that occasion. Here he remained rather 
more than a year, with the exception of a short visit to 
Eome in the spring of 1507. 

^ In the beginning of 1508 he proceeded to Venice to superin- 
* Op. torn. iv. p. 755, edit. Lugd. 



RESIDENCE AT VENICE, PADUA, AND EOME. 7S 

tend the printing of a third edition of his ''Adages/' at which 
he had been working for some time, by the celebrated 
printer, Aldus. Here he occupied the same room with 
Aleander, afterwards the uncompromising opponent of Lu- 
ther and the Eeformation, of whom I shall speak in a 
future chapter. His friendship for Erasmus was, as we shall 
see hereafter, changed into bitter enmity. Here, for nine 
months, he was engaged in incessant labour. He passed the 
winter at Padua, as I have said, with his pupil, the Arch- 
bishop of St. Andrew's, from which place he moved with him 
to Sienna. He went to Eome in the spring of 1509, and 
there was warmly welcomed. The pope promised him at 
some future time a place among his penitentiaries, usually 
considered a post of much honour and emolument. He 
was also introduced to the Cardinal de Medici, afterwards 
Leo X., and formed other friendships which were of 
service to him. "He was taken into the protection of 
Eaphael, Cardinal of St. George, and at his persuasion was 
put upon a very ungrateful task, to declaim backwards and 
forwards on the same argument ; first to dissuade from un- 
dertaking a war against the Venetians, and then to exhort 
to the said war upon the pope's changing his holy mind.""' 
The second declamation was obviously very discreditable to 
him. 

While he was at Bologna he very nearly lost his life. I 
shall give his own account of what happened to him, ex- 
tracted from the letter to Grunnius, containing the history 
of his early life_which has been given in the second chapter 
ofthiswork.t '-Sometime afterwards the love of study 
induced him to go to a foreign country. According to the 
custom of the French, he wore a v/hite linen scapulary over 

* Knight's "Life of Erasmus," ]). 105. 
t Op. torn. iii. p. 919, edit. Bas. 



74 m DAE"GEE, AT BOLOGNA. 

his dress, thinking that it was not unusual to do so there. 
But twice he was in danger of losing his life, because sur- 
geons who attend people stricken with the plague wear 
^ white linen scarf over their left shoulder, which hangs 
down in front and behind, that they may be easily seen, and 
may be avoided by all who meet and who follow them. If 
they did not walk through deserted streets, the people would 
run together and would stone them. . : ; Once when Flo- 
rentius happened to be visiting a learned friend, two officers 
whom he met, drawing their swords, and using words which 
showed their murderous intentions, would have slain him, if 
a matron, who v/as fortunately passing by, had not told them 
that it v/as not the dress of a surgeon, but of an ecclesiastic. 
They did not, however, desist from shouting after him, and 
did not return their swords to their scabbards till he had 
knocked at the door of a neighbouring house, and had been 
admitted inside it. 

"Another day he was going to see some friends who be- 
longed to his own country, when suddenly a large crowd 
assembled, armed with stones and clubs, who, in a transport 
of rage, shouted out to one another, ' Kill the dog ! kill the 
dog !' In the meantime he met a priest, who, with a smile, 
said to him in a low tone, and in Latin, 'Asses! asses!' 
While they were making this outcry, presently a very ele- 
gant young mxan, in a purple cloak, came out of a house. 
Florentius fled to him as to an altar ; for he was altogether 
ignorant of the language of the country, and wondered what 
they wanted. ' Let me tell you,' he said, ' that if you do 
not leave off that white badge you will some day be stoned 
to death. Mind what I say ; I give you fair warning !' He 
did not leave it off, but covered it with his robe ! Good 
God ! what a tragedy was likely to arise from no cause what- 
ever !" 

This incident was assigned as one reason for the applica- 



INTKODUCTIOISr TO CAKDINAL GEIMANI. iO 

tion addressed to the pope to release liim from his monastic 
vows. The pope to whom Grunnius presented the epistle 
was not Julius II., but Leo. X. Erasmus says in this epistle 
that he had before obtained of the pope (that is, of Julius 
II.) leave to accommodate his habit to the custom of the 
places where he should sojourn.'-' Here then we have the 
conclusion of the romantic story in the second chapter. It 
ended in an appeal to the pope, which was successful, that 
he might change the habit of a friar for that of a secular 
priest. 

The following amusing story of his introduction to Cardi- 
nal Dominic Grimani will show the estimation in which he 
was held at Eome.t The cardinal had sent him word that 
he should be glad to see him. He called one afternoon, 
and having left his horse with the servant, went in alone. 
He walked through two or three rooms without seeing any 
one. At length, in the fourth room he met a Greek who 
asked him his business. On telling him that he had called 
at the request of the cardinal, he was informed that he was 
conversing with some gentlemen. Erasmus said immedi- 
ately that he would not disturb him, and that he would 
shortly call again. He then went to look out at a window. 
" At last," to use his own words, " he asked me my name, 
and I told him, upon which he slipped away unperceived 
by me, and, returning, desired me not to go. In a minute 
after I was called in. The cardinal received me, not as such 
a one as he might have received a person of my low station, 
but as though I had been one of his colleagues. He ordered 
me a chair, and we conversed together for more than two 
hours, nor would he suffer me to be uncovered — a surprising 
civility from a man of his dignity ! Amongst several things 
relating to learning, in which he showed great skill, he gave 

* Jortin, vol. i, p, 625. 
t Ibid. p. 29. 



76 DETEEMIITATIOIT TO LEAYE ITALY. 

me an account of an intention to collect a library, which I 
hear he has since executed. He exhorted me not to leave 
E-ome, a place where men of genius were encouraged. He 
offered me his own house, and told me that the air of Eome, 
being warm and moist;, would suit my constitution, that his 
residence was situated in the most healthy part of the city, 
and that a certain pope had on that account built the palace 
in which he lived. After much conversation he called in his 
nephew, who was already an archbishop, and was of a pro- 
mising genius. As I offered to rise, the cardinal would not 
let me, and said that the disciple ought to stand in the pre- 
sence of his master. Then he showed me his library, well 
stored v/ith authors of different languages. Had I known 
him sooner, I should never have quitted Eome, where I 
found more favour than I deserved ; but I was then deter- 
mined to go, and it was not in my power to stay." 

The fact v^as that Erasmus felt that he could not take up 
his abode in Italy. He states, in a letter to a friend, that a 
land of ceremonies and a land of inquisition was no proper 
habitation for a man of a temper so open and free.'^ He had 
another reason for not caring to stay in Italy. He had 
come to it, as he writes to Servatius, chiefly to perfect him- 
self in the Greek language ; but he had been unsuccessful on 
account of the wars which prevailed in that country. t By 
his own account, too, of Pope Julius, he seems to have found 
so little sincerity at Eome that he was little inclined tO' 
remain in that city. He and his cardinals thought only of 
political intrigue and of warlike operations, and cared nothing 
about religion or literature. He has made, as we shall see 
presently, the ambition and military spirit of Julius the sub- 
ject of his satire in the " Praise of Folly." Impressed with 
the conviction just referred to, he seems to have considered as 

^' Jortin's " Life of Erasmus," vol. i. p. 31. 
t Knight's "Life of Erasmus," p. 89. 



RETUEN TO ENGLAND. il 

a providential call an invitation to return to England sent to 
him by Lord Mountjoy, dated May 27tli, 1497 (a manifest 
error for 1509). He was led to expect great favours from 
Henry VIII., who had just ascended the throne. When he 
asked a friend at Eome- if he should accept the invitation, 
and whether the papal court w^ould make him higher offers, 
he was told that he could not be encouraged to stay, as there 
was A^ery little probability that his merits Tvould be re- 
warded. Accordingly he accepted the proposal, and travel- 
ling back by the s,ame route by which he came, returned to 
England between the autumn of 1509 and June, 1510. 

But though the visit of Erasmus to Italy was not directly 
serviceable to him in regard to the enlargement of his know- 
ledge of the Greek language, yet in another way it produced 
important consequences. It led to the composition of that 
remarkable satire, " Mw^/a? E/pcw^ci/of," or the "Praise of 
Folly," which, by its lively and stinging exhibition of the 
absurdities and vices of many of the ecclesiastics of the 
Church of Eome, may be considered as having directly aided 
the cause of the Eeformation.-'" This work is one of the 
most remakable satires the world has ever seen. It is full 
of wit, and embodies his views of men and manners 
formed not only in the course of his travels, but also 
•during his residence in Italy. As it was the rule of his life 
never to lose any time, and as he would not, as he says in 
the Introduction, give his mind to abstruse meditations while 
he was riding across the country on horseback, he employed 
himself in meditating this work, and wrote down his 
thoughts at the inn at the end of the day's joiu^ney. The 
<xreek title was derived from the name of his friend More, 
to whom he dedicated it. He called it so, not because he 
was that which this word expresses, for he was, in the judg- 
ment of aU men, as far removed from it as possible, but be- 
* Op. torn. iv. p.352, edit.Bas. 



78 THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 

cause he was fond of a joke, and took delight in any produc- 
tion which was seasoned with real wit. It appears to have 
been finished in a week, soon after his return to England, 
at More's house, in Bucklersburj, London, when he was ill, 
and could not apply himself closely to his studies. He an- 
ticipates a charge which might be brought against it, that the 
work was of too trifling a character for a theologian, and was 
too sarcastic for a Christian. He asks why the student alone 
of all men should not be allowed to amuse himself in this 
manner, especially when what he says has a serious tendency, 
and he so handles his humorous subject that the reader shall 
derive more benefit from it than from a heavy discourse 
worked out in a very argumentative manner. " For as you 
certainly lay yourself open to the charge of trifling when you 
treat of sacred subjects in a trifling spirit, so nothing tends 
more to edification than, even when you are writing in a vein 
of pleasant humour, not to seem to have been trifling at all. 
To the charge of stinging sarcasm I make this answer, that 
men of genius have always been allowed to be witty about 
any transactions of life, provided they keep within the 
bounds of moderation. For the religion of some is of so ab- 
surd a character, that they can bear to hear evil words spoken 
against Christ, but object to the least raillery directed against 
the pope or a king. He who censures the conduct of the 
world without mentioning any one by name, seems to me 
rather to teach and to warn than to bite by his sarcasm. Be- 
sides, he who spares no class is clearly angry, not with any 
one individual, but with sin in general. So if any one 
should complain that he is reflected upon, he will show that 
he is conscious that he deserves censure, or at least that he 
is afraid of it. Besides abstaining altogether from giving 
names, I have so tempered my style that the wise reader will 
easily understand that I have endeavoured to[give pleasure 
rather than pain." 



THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 79 

Folly is tlien represented as giving an address to lier fol- 
lowers. She begins by enumerating the benefits which she 
everywhere confers. She then speaks of the universality of 
her worship."^ 

'•The whole world is my very beautiful temple. I have 
worshippers wherever the human race is to be found. I am 
not so foolish as to be adored by proxy, and to have my 
honour bestowed intermediately on senseless images and 
pictures, which are sometimes injurious to worship, when 
ignorant people make no distinction between the things them- 
selves and the objects which they represent. In the mean- 
time custom does for me what it usually does for those who 
find their place usurped by their representatives. I think 
that there are as many statues erected to me as there are 
men in the world who, even against their will, carry my 
image stamped on their countenances. I have therefore no 
reason to envy the other gods, because one is worshipped in 
one corner of the world, another in another, and that too on 
stated days — as Apollo at Ehodes, Yenus in Cyprus, Juno at 
Argos, Minerva at Athens, Jupiter on Olympus, Neptune at 
Tareutum, Priapus at Lampsacus — when the whole v/orld is 
my altar, on which the most valuable incense and sacrifice 
are continually oifered up. As I may seem to some to speak 
with greater boldness than truth, I will ask you to examine 
with me the lives of men, that you may plainly see how much 
they owe to me^ and how much the least as well as the great- 
est value me. "We will not review the lives of all, for that 
would be a jiedious task, but only of the principal classes, 
from whom we may easily form an opinion of the others." . . . 

After having shown by several instances how much she 

contributes to the enjoyment of life, she speaks of those 

whose minds, by a harmless mistake in the judgment of things, 

are freed from those cares which would otherwise afflict them, 

* Page 372. 



80 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 

and possess a satisfaction whicli they could not otherwise 
enjoy. She mentions, by way of ilkistration, those who look 
down with contempt on every occupation except hunting, 
and who "find the greatest pleasure in hearing the sound of 
horns, and the barking of dogs."''" Folly is then repre- 
sented as saying, " How great is their delight when a wild, 
"beast is to be killed ! The common people may kill bulls and 
sheep ; it is a crime for any one but a nobleman to kill the 
animal just mentioned. He, with bare head, with bent knees, 
-with a hanger designed for the purpose (for a common knife 
is not good enough), and with certain ceremonies (for it is 
a sin to do it in any way but one), cuts certain limbs in a 
certain order. The crowd standing round silently gazes in 
■wonder, as if at a new and sacred spectacle, although they 
have seen it more than a thousand times before. He who 
tastes a small portion of the flesh fancies that he has become 
a nobleman. Thus while with this continual slaughter of 
these animals and feasting on them, they almost become wild 
beasts themselves, they think that they are leading a life 
truly royal." 

Folly afterwards gives the following description of the 
gamblerst : — " I have a little doubt whether the gamblers 
ought to be admitted to our college. But yet it seems to 
me very ridiculous to see some so addicted to this amuse- 
ment, that as soon as they hear the sound of the dice, their 
hearts begin to beat. When, led on by the hope of winning, 
they have made' shipwreck of all their property, and their 
ship is dashed on the rock of a game of hazard, far more to 
be dreaded than the rock of Malea, assuredly they must be 
considered as utterly wanting in wisdom. What shall we say 
when we see old men playing when they can scarcely see, and 
their eyes are beginning to be glazed ? or what of those who, 
when the gout deprives them of the'use of their fingers, pay a 
■" Page 368. t Page 368. 



THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 81 

man to put the dice for them into the dice-box ? A pleasant 
occupation, truly ! but with this drawback, that the game 
often leads to madness, and so belongs rather to the Furies 
than to me." 

She thus continues : '^ But I have not the least doubt 
that those are altogether my votaries, who delight in hear- 
ing or relating miracles and prodigious lies. They are 
never wearied of fables about spectres, ghosts, and appari- 
tions, and a thousand bugbears of superstition of the same 
kind, which are readily believed and greedily devoured in 
proportion as they are wanting in truth and probability. 
And these serve not only to beguile their tedium, but also 
are a source of gain, especially to priests, and to those who 
can by their speaking influence the multitude. Xear of kin to 
these men are those who are foolish enough to believe that 
they shall not die on the day on which they have seen a 
painted or wooden St.^Christopher, or that they shall return 
safely from battle when they have mumbled once a prayer 
before the picture of St. Barbara, or that they shall shortly 
become rich when on certain days they have placed before 
an Erasmus certain wax-tapers, or addressed to him certain 
prayers. They have found in St. George another Hercules 
as well as another Hippolytus. They almost worship his 
horse, after they have most religiously adorned it with 
trappings and with bridles full of bosses. What shall I say 
of those who derive very great comfort from the cheat of 
pardons and indulgences, and who measure the spaces of 
purgatory as if witli an hour-glass, marking, without the 
possibility of error, the ages, the years, the months, the 
days, the hours, as if from a mathematical table; or of 
those who relying on certaiQ magical charms or short prayers 
which some religious impostor has invented for the purpose 
of gain, promise themselves everything — wealth, honour, 
pleasure, excess, constant health, a long life, a green old 

6 



82 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 

age, last of all the next place to Christ in heaven, which, 
however, they do not wish to obtain for some time to come, 
that is when they shall exchange the pleasures of this life 
which they are unwilling to resign, and hold with a tena- 
cious grasp, for the delights of the heavenly paradise ? You 
could hardly suppose it to be true that some merchant, or 
soldier, or judge, having cast down a small piece of money 
taken from the vast amount he has gained unjustly, thinks 
that all the guilt of his life is purged away, and that he has 
purchased the pardon of so many perjuries, so much lust, so 
much drunkenness, so many quarrels, so many murders, so - 
much cheating, so many acts of treachery, and so purchased 
it that he may now ^return afresh to a new circle of 
wickedness. 

" Can anything exceed the folly of those who, after the daily 
recitation of the well-known seven verses of the sacred psalms, 
hope to rise to the summit of human felicity ? those magic 
verses, I mean, which a certain facetious demon, more shallow 
than crafty, skilfully surprised by St. Bernard is believed 
to have taught him 1 Several of these fooleries which are so 
absurd that I am almost ashamed to refer to them^ yet are 
practised and admired not only by the common people, but 
also by professors of religion. Similar to this is the folly which 
leads every country to claim its particular Guardian Saint, 
and to assign certain offices, certain modes of worship, to 
every one of them, so that one gives relief to the tooth-ache, 
another assists in child-birth, another restores stolen pro- 
perty, another aids in shipwreck, another guards the flock. 
But it would be tedious to go through the offices of all of 
them. Some there are v/ho have prayers addressed to them 
on all occasions, especially the Virgin Mary, to whom the 
common people attribute more power than they do to her 
Son. Now from these Saints what, I say, do men ask, 
excepting those things which relate to folly? . . . , 



THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 83 

Amongst tlie nnnieroiis tropliies with wliicli, as tokens of 
gratitude, you see the walls, the brazen gates, and the roof 
itself of certain churches covered, have you ever seen any 
from one who has been cured of folly, and has made pro- 
gress in true wisdom ] They are such as these. One is 
grateful because, after a shipwreck, he has swum safely to 
land ; another, because, after ha^T.ng been stabbed by an 
enemy, he has recovered ; another, because, when all his 
fellow-soldiers were killed on the spot, he, with ec|ual 
cunning and cowardice, escaped from the field ; another, 
because, after having been hanged on a gibbet, by the 
favour "of some saint who was friendly to thieves, he has 
fcxllen, and has been able to follow his old trade of stealing ; 
another, because he has escaped from prison j another, 
because his waggon was overturned, and yet none of his 

horses were lamed Xo one gives thanks for 

having been preserved from folly. So agreeable is it to be 
unwise that men will rather pray against anything than 
folly. But why do I launch out into so wide a sea of super- 
stitions ? — 

' Xo, liad I e'en a Iiundred tongues, 

A Iiundred mouths, and ii'on lungs. 

All follr's forms I could not sIlott, 

Xor go tlirougli all her names below.' "* 
^f * * * 

Folly next refers to those " who have the reputation of 
wisdom, and endeavour, as men say, to obtain her golden 
bough."t After having lashed them most unmercifully, as 
well as poets and rhetoricians, sh'e speaks of those who seek 
immortality by writing books,! whom she describes as men 

* Xon m ih i si lingure centum suit, oraoue centum, 
Ferrea tos:, omnes fatuorum evolrere formas, 
Omnia stultitise percurrere nomina possim. 

Altered from Virgil, JEneid, book vi, lines 625-627. 
f. Page 371. i): Page 374. 

G— 2 



84 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 

'• never satisfied with themselves, and as purchasing a use- 
less reward, the praise of a very few, at the cost of so much 
midnight oil, with the loss of sleep, nature's sweet restorer, 
with so much labour, with so many vexations. You may 
add to these evils the loss of health, the weakening of their 
constitution, dimness of sight or even blindness, poverty, 
envy, the loss of worldly pleasures, premature old age, 
untimely death, together with many other troubles of a 
similar description. But how much happier in his madness 
is that author, my devoted servant, who, without any trou- 
ble, and at the cost of ] a very little paper, immediately 
commits to writing whatever comes into his mind, liot for- 
getting even his dreams, being fully assured that the more 
nonsense he talks, the higher Avill be the place which he 
will occupy in the good opinion of the majority, that is of 
the foolish and the unlearned ! These men are happy in- 
deed when they are commended by the common people, 
when they are pointed out in a crowd, when their works 
are exhibited at the booksellers' shops. Wise men look 
upon all this as very ridiculous. True, but yet it must be 
admitted that to me they owe their present happiness, and 
the triumphs which they would not exchange for those of 
the Scipios." 

After having ridiculed the lawyers and the logicians. 
Folly thus describes the philosophers :''' " With what plea- 
sure to themselves do they rave while they talk of the 
creation of countless worlds, while they measure out the 
sun, the moon, the stars^ the earth, as it were by the thumb 
or thread, while they explain the cau&e of thunder, the origin 
of winds, the nature of eclipses, and other abstruse diffi- 
culties without the least hesitation, just as if they had been 
initiated into the mysteries of creation, or as if they had 
come to us from, the council-chamber of nature, at whom 
* Pa^e 374. 



THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 85 

and at whose conjectures nature in the meantime loudly 
laughs. For it is perfectly evident to us that they have 
made no discovery when we find that an interminable con- 
troversy is carried on between them respecting everything. 
While they really know nothing at all, they lay claim to 
universal knowledge." 

Folly then proceeds to speak of the theologians, whom she 
says it would perhaps be better to pass over in silence.* 
" They are a race at once proud and irritable, and will per- 
haps attack me in a body with their six hundred conclu- 
sions, and call on me to recant. If I refuse to do so, they 
will at once cry out that I am a heretic ; for with these 
thunders they terrify all who offend them. . . . It is 
true that no men own less dependence on me; yet to me they 
have reason to acknowledge themselves largely indebted. 
For it is by one of my properties, self-love, that they fancy 
themselves caught up to the third heaven, from whence they 
look down with contempt upon the whole human race as if 
they w^ere cattle creeping on the ground, whom they affect to 
pity. They are hedged in with so great a crowd of definitions, 
delivered with the authority of a master, of conclusions, of 
corollaries, propositions explicit and implicit, that if you 
bind them with the strongest chains, they will escape from 
you with their distinctions, by means of which they cut all 
knots as easily as if they struck them with a two-edged axe. 
They explain in their own manner hidden mysteries; how the 
world was created and arranged ; through what channels the 
pollution of Adam's sin came down to all his posterity ; in 
what manner, with what measure, in what time, Christ was 
formed in the Virgin's womb; how, in the sacred elements, 
accidents can subsist without a substance. . . . They 
ask these questions — Whether it is possible for the Father 
to hate the Son 1 Whether God can take upon Himself the 
* Page 375. Here refer to the second chapter. 



86 THE PSAISE OF FOLLY. 

nature of a woman, a devil, an ass, a gourd, or a flintstone ? 
How the gourd could have taught publicly, worked miracles^ 
and have been nailed to the cross ? What Peter would have 
consecrated, if he had consecrated when Christ was hanging 
on the cross ? Whether at that time Christ could have 
been said to be a man ? Whether after the resurrec- 
tion we shall eat or drink, feel hunger or thirst ? . . . 
These very perplexing subtleties are rendered still more 
perplexing by the methods of the schoolmen, so that you 
can more easily find your way out of a labyrinth, than 
escape from the entanglements of the Eealists, the Nominal- 
ists, the Thomists, the Albertists, the Occamists, the Scot- 
ists, who constitute the leading sects. These men possess 
so much learning, so much subtlety, that I think even 
the Apostles themselves would want another Spirit, if they 
were compelled to engage in controversy with this new 
race of divines. Paul could believe; but when he said, 
* Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of 
things not seen,' he did not (they assert) define it with 
sufficient accuracy. He v/as full of charity; but he was 
not (they say) very correct in his explanation of it in the 
thirteenth chapter of the first Epistle to the Corinthians. 
. . . The Apostles knew the mother of Jesus ; but which 
of them has shown philosophically, as our divines, how 
she was preserved from the stain of original sini . . . 
They baptized everywhere, and yet they have nowhere 
taught what is the formal, the material, the efficient, and 
the final cause of baptism ; they do not speak of its delible 
or indelible character. They worshipped, but in spirit, 
guided by those words of our Lord, 'God is a Spirit, and 
they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in 
truth.'* But it does not appear to have been revealed to 
them that they must worship, in the same manner as Christ 
* 1 John iv. 24. 



THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 87 

Himself, a little image marked with a coal on the wall, 
having two fingers held out, a bald crown, and a circle 
round its head with three marks on it. . . . Again, the 
Apostles exhort to good works, but they make no distinction 
between the opus operans and the opus operatum. They 
everywhere inculcate charity ; but they do not distinguish 
between charity infused and charity acquired, and do not 
explain whether it is an accident or a substance, whether it 
is a created thing or an uncreated. They express their 
hatred of sin ; but I am positive that they could not define 
dogmatically what we call sin, unless indeed they possess 
the inspiration of the Scotists. For I cannot be brought 
to believe that Paul, of whose learning all have a high 
opinion, would so often have condemned ' foolish questions, 
genealogies, and contentions,' and, as he calls them, 
* strivings about the law/ if he had been skilled in these 
subtleties.* ; . . 

" I think that the Christians would be wise if, instead of 
those cohorts who formerly fought with doubtful success, 
they were to send the verv noisy Scotists, and the very 
obstinate Occamists, and the invincible Albertists, together 
with the whole band of sophists, against the Turks and the 
Saracens. They^w^ould witness, I fancy, a most amusing 
conflict, and a victory on our side not to be questioned. 
For which of the enemy would not lower their turbans at 
so solemn an appearance ? which of the fiercest Janizaries 
would not throw away his cimiter, and all the half-moons 
be eclipsed by the interposition of so glorious an army ? 

" You may think that all this is said in joke ; but in truth 
there are some amongst the theologians better instructed, 
who are disgusted with these frivolous subtleties. Some 
condemn it as a kind of sacrilege, and look upon it as the 
greatest impiety, to speak with unclean lips concerning 
* Titus iii. 9. 



88 THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 

mysteries which ought rather to be the subject of a humble 
and uncontradicting faith than of an inquisitive reason \ to 
argue respecting them with the profane subtlety of the 
heathen philosophers, to define them with so much presump- 
tion, and to pollute the majesty of divine theology with 
cold and mean words and thoughts. But alas ! these scho- 
lastic divines are very well satisfied with themselves, and 
spend the day and night over their very delightful studies, 
so that they have no time left to meditate on the gospels, 
or on the epistles of St. Paul. While they thus trifle in 
the schools, they think that they shall support the whole 
fabric of the Church, which would otherwise fall, with the 
props of their syllogisms, as Atlas in the poets supports the 
heaven on his shoulders. They are supremely happy while 
thej^ form and re-form at their pleasure the letters of the 
Bible as if they were made of wax, while they would have 
their conclusions, to which some schoolmen have given their 
consent, ratified as the laws of Solon, and preferred to the 
decrees of the Pope ; and while, setting themselves up as 
censors of the world, they call for a recantation of every 
thing which does not exactly square with their explicit and 
implicit conclusions, declaring as if with an oracular voice, 

* This proposition is scandalous,' ' This savours of heresy,' 

* This is irreverent,' ' This is very improper.' .... Are 
they not the happiest of men, while they are treating of 
these things % while they exactly describe everything in the 
infernal regions, as if they had passed many years in that 
kingdom ? making besides new spheres at their pleasure, 
one, the largest and most beautiful, being finally added, lest 
there should not be suflacient room for happy souls to walk 
about, to enjoy a banquet, or even to play at ball?* With 

* He here alludes to the tenth, or "empyrean sphere," which the 
schoolmen had added to the ninth sphere of the ancients. 



THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. SO 

these and a thousand trifles of the same kind their heads 
are so stuffed and swelled, that I do not think that the 
brain of Jupiter was so heavy, when, as he was bringing 
forth Pallas, he asked for the axe of Vulcan to ease him of 
his burden. You must not therefore be surprised, if you 
see their heads so carefully surrounded with bandages in 
their public disputations, for otherwise they would certainly 
burst asunder." . . . 

Erasmus, by this severe condemnation of the schoolmen, 
fulfilled the promise which he had made to Colet, that 
when he had the requisite strength, he would openly 
oppose them.* 

Folly then inveighs in the following bitter words against 
the follies and vices of the monks :t " These men call them- 
selves rehgious men and monks. Both titles are, however, 
altogether undeserved ; for they are as irreligious as they 
well can be ; and as to the latter title, the etymology of the 
word * monk ' implies ' being alone / whereas they are 
so thickly abroad that we cannot pass any street or alley 
without meeting them. Xow I cannot imagine what class 
of men would be more hopelessly wretched if I did not 
stand their friend, and buoy them up in that lake of misery 
in which, by the engagements of a holy vow, they have 
voluntarily plunged. AVhile men of this class are so exe- 
crated by every one that the casual meeting of them is 
considered a bad omen, I yet cause them to stand very high 
in their own estimation, and to be fond admirers of their 
own happiness. Fii'st, they think that they give a very 
plain proof of their piety by having nothing to do with 
learning, so that they can scarcely ever read, l^ext, while 
in their churches they bray out like asses the psalms which 
they count indeed, but do not understand, they think that 
God listens well-pleased to their melody. Some there are 
* See end of chap. ii. t Page 377. 



90 THE PRAISE OF fOLLT. 

who make much by their filth and begging, bellowing for 
bread in front of our doors, and crowding in upon us every- 
where, in public-houses, in waggons, and passage-boats, not 
without great loss to other beggars. These very delightful 
men, who are remarkable only for their dirt, their ignorance, 
their clownish manners, and their impudence, pretend that 
they are the genuine successors of the Apostles. What gives 
them greater pleasure than to regulate their actions by 
weight and measure, as if their religion depended on the 
omission of the least point 1 They state exactly how many 
knots their sandals should have, of how many different 
colours each of their garments should consist, of what ma- 
terial they should be made, what ought to be the length 
and width of their girdle, how deep their cowl should be, 
how many hours they must sleep, at what minute rise to 

prayers, &c These men who profess to be influenced 

by apostolical love often engage in quarrels respecting the 
darker colour of a robe, or girding it on the wrong way, 
or any similar nicety not worth mentioning. . . . Some who 
shrink from touching money, as if it were poison, will not 
abstain from wine or from carnal intercourse with women. 
They all seem to be firmly determined that there shall be 
no agreement in their customs and habits. They strive not 
so much to be like Christ, as to be unlike one another. A 
great part of their happiness consists in the names which 
they assume. Some will be called Cordeliers, and these are 
subdivided into Capuchins, Minors, Minims, and Mendi- 
cants. Some again are styled Benedictines, others of the 
order of St. Bernard, others of that of St. Bridget ; some 
are Augustine monks, some Willielmites, and others Jaco- 
bites, as if the name of Christian were too mean and vulgar. 
Many of them make salvation depend upon their cere- 
monies, and upon a belief of their traditions, thinking that 
one heaven can scarcely be an adequate reward for their 



THE PEAISE OF FOLLY* 91 

great merit, not rememberiug that Christ will despise all 
claims of this kind, and will ask them whether they have 
exactly observed the law of love which He has given to 
them. One will show his paunch stuffed with every kind of 
fish j another will exhiljit a hundred measures of psalms ; 
another will number up myriads of fasts ; another will 
bring forward a heap of ceremonies, wlucli can scarcely be 
conveyed in ten merchant ships ; another will boast that 
for sixty years he has never touched money, excepting with, 
fingers protected by a pair of gloves j another will produce 
a cowl so dirty and coarse, that no sailor would think it 
good enough for him ; another will declare that for more 
than fifty years he has lived the life of a plant_, always 
rooted to the same place ; another will plead as his claim 
the loss of his voice from constant singing ; another, the 
lethargy occasioned by solitude ; another the loss of the 
power of speech from long silence. But Christ wdll inter- 
rupt them in the recital of their good deeds, which would 
otherwise never come to an end, and will say. Whence 
comes this new race of Jews ] I acknowdedge one law as 
really mine, of which I hear nothing. Formerly, wdien on 
earth, without a parable, I promised my Father's inherit- 
ance, not to austerities, prayers, or fastings, but to faith and 
the offices of charity. I do not acknowledge those who 
make much of their good deeds. Those who trust in their 
own merit may inhabit, if they please, the new heavens of 
the schoolmen, or they may order a new heaven to be 
erected for them by those whose traditions they have pre- 
ferred to my precepts, for they shall never enter into that, 
which from the beginning of the world w^as prepared for 
those who are true of heart. When they hear these words, 
and see sailors and carters preferred to themselves, what 
looks do you suppose they will cast at one another 1 But 



■92 THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 

in the meantime they are greatly indebted to me for their 
present expectations of happiness. 

'' No one dares to despise these men, especially the Men- 
dicants, though they have nothing to do with public affairs, 
because they know the secrets of every one, which they 
obtain through the confessional. They think it, however, 
very wicked to divulge them, and never do so unless, 
when they are intoxicated, they wish to amuse themselves 
with pleasant tales ; but they carefully conceal the names, 
and leave people to form a conjecture as to the persons. If 
any one should irritate these wasps, they avenge themselves 
well in public by insinuations against their enemy, which 
every one but an idiot can perfectly understand. The dogs 
will not leave off barking till you have thrown them a sop. 
What player," what; mountebank would you not rather see 
than these men, v/hen they make a very ridiculous display of 
their rhetorical artifices in their public addresses, while they 
derive the greatest pleasure from following the rules which 
the masters of the art have laid down respecting the right 
method of speaking. How they gesticulate ! How careful 
they are to change their voice in the right place I How they 
modulate it ! Into what various attitudes they throw them- 
selves ! How well they change the expression of their 
countenance ! What a confusion they make by their shout- 
ing ! This art 'of speaking is transmitted as a great mystery 
from brother to brother. You see, then, I think, how much 
these men are indebted to. me, who, by their ceremonies, 
their ridiculous trifles, and their noise, exercise a kind 
of tyranny over mankind. But I wilHngly leave these 
actors, who are as ungrateful in their concealment of their 
obligations to me, as they are wicked in making a pretence 
of piety." 

Folly then proceeds to censure, in severe terms, the vices 



THE PEAISE OF TOLLY. 93 

and follies of the kings and courtiers of those days. She 
then attacks the dignitaries of the Church.'^ 

*' Popes, Cardinals, and Bishops," she says, "have, in 
pomp and splendour, long since equalled, nay almost sur- 
l^assed, secular princes. If they ^vill carefully consider that 
the snoT^'- white linen vestment reminds them that they must 
live a spotless life ; that the forked mitres with both divi- 
sions tied together by the same knot, denote the joint know- 
ledge of the Old and Xew Testament ; that their wearing of 
gloves reminds them that they must keep their hands pure 
from lucre and covetousness ; that their pastoral staff is in- 
tended to impress upon them the importance of looking 
very carefully after the flock committed to their charge -, 
that the cross carried before them reminds them that they 
must gain a victory over their carnal affections ; — if, I say, 
they would only consider these things, and many more of a 
similar nature, would they not see that they are entrusted 
with an important and diflScult office ? But now they live 
luxuriously, and commit the charge of the flock to Christ 
Himself. . . . They forget^altogether what their name of 
Bishop imports ; namely, labour and watchful care ; and, by 
base simoniacal contracts, are, in a profane sense, Episcopi, 
Overseers of their own gain and income. 

" The Cardinals, in the same manner, would do well to 
remember that they have come into the place of the Apos- 
tles ; that therefore they must conduct themselves like their 
predecessors, and so not be 'lords over God's heritage,' 
but ' dispensers of spiritual gifts,' and that they will be 
called on hereaftej to give an exact account of the manner 
in which they have improved the talents with which He has 
gifted tliem. If they will for a short time meditate on their 
dress, and learn lessons from it, they will ask themselves 
the following questions : — ' What am I taught by this white 
* Pa^e 381. 



94 THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 

upper garment 1 — That I must be remarkable for innocency 
of life. What by the inner purple robe ? — Burning love to 
God. What, again, by the outer pall with its many folds 
and windings, which is spread over the whole of my mule, 
^nd would be quite large enough to cover a camel 1 — Charity, 
which extends very far and succours everybody, which 
teaches, exhorts, consoles, rebukes, admonishes, puts an end 
to differences, courageously resists wicked princes, and will- 
ingly sacrifices not only its money, but even its life for 
the flock of Christ. Let me ask myself again. Ought a suc- 
cessor of the poor Apostles to possess all this wealth 1 If 
they weighed these things well, they would not be ambitious 
of this dignity, and would willingly resign it, or at least 
would live a watchful and laborious life, like the disciples of 
their Lord and Master." 

Folly then lashes severely the Popes themselves. The 
student of history will at once see that he is here describing 
two Popes, his contemporaries, who filled a large space in 
the annals of infamy. I have already spoken of Alexander 
VI. "^ Julius II., who was alive at the time when Erasmus 
wrote the " Praise of Folly," was haughty and intractable, 
restless and ambitious. He devoted all his energies to the 
enlargement of the territory of the Church, and the complete 
subjugation of the barons who had resisted the authority of 
his predecessor. He heard a voice in every wind animating 
him to carry his warlike enterprise to a successful issue. 
That voice scared sleep from his eyes and slumber from his 
eyelids. At length it was heard and answered. The tumult 
of the battle-field was music in his ears. At the siege of 
Mirandola he was continually in front of his soldiers, rebuk- 
ing, some, and animating all to deeds of noble daring. At 
length he subdued his barons, and added^ a large tract 
of fertile territory to the patrimony of St. Peter. We 

* Page 36. 



THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 95 

cannot doubt, however, that the ambition and wars of 
Julius, while they issued in the extension of the Church's 
territory, were greatly injurious to the Papacy. • They were 
fit subjects for the satire of Folly. Men could not fail to 
lose all reverence for their spiritual guides when they saw 
their ambition no longer veiled under the decent pretext of 
an apparently honest determination to redress the wrongs 
of human society, but exhibiting its workings in all the 
petty artifices of politics, in dissimulation and perjury, or in 
the coarser form of military. enterprises, conducted by them- 
selves, having for their object to gain possession of the terri- 
tory of their neighbours, and to raise themselves as temporal 
princes to a high place among this world's potentates. 

Folly thus describes the Popes : — " If the sovereign 
Pontiffs, who are Christ's vicegerents, were to endeavour to 
imitate His exemplary life. His poverty, His labours, His 
teaching. His sufferings, His contempt of the world ; if they 
were to think of the word Pope, which signifies a father, and 
conveys the idea of the greatest possible sanctity ; or if they 
would but practise that holiness which they assume as their 
title, what class of men would be in a worse condition 1 
Would any purchase that dignity with all the wealth at their 
disposal, or defend themselves by the dagger, by poison, by 
every kind of violence ?* How much of their pleasure would 
they lose if they had a grain of wisdom — wisdom^ did I say ? 
if they had a grain of common sense, I should have said — 
of that salt whose savour our Saviour bids us not lose ? All 
their honour, their power, their victories, their of&ces, their 
dispensations, their taxes, their licences, their indulgences, 
their horses, mules, and attendants, their vicious pleasures, 
would in this case be forfeited and lost. You see how many 

* Alexander YI, succeeded by the grossest bribery in securing for 
himself the triple cro^m. He perished by a poisoned draught which 
he had prepared for one of his Cardinals. 



96 THE PEAISE OF. FOLLY. 

markets, how large a harvest, what an ocean of property, I 
have comprehended m a few words ! They would substitute 
for them vigils, fasts^ tears, prayers, sermons, studies, sighs, 
and a thousand mortifications and labours. I must not omit 
also to state that all their clerks, amanuenses, notaries, advo- 
cates, proctors, secretaries, grooms, ostlers, serving-men, 
and something else which for the sake of modesty I shall not 
mention; in a word, the immense crowd of men who are a 
burden — I made a mistake, I meant who are an honour — to 
the Eoman Court, would lose their employment. An act 
of great inhumanity, too, it would be, an abominable crime, 
of which we cannot too strongly express our detestation, to 
compel the highest princes of the Church, the true lights of 
the Gospel, to go forth once more with the wallet and the 
staff of the beggar ! But now, whatever work there is they 
generally leave to Peter and'^Paul, who have plenty of leisure 
for it j whatever pomp and pleasure, they appropriate to them- 
selves. Thus then to me they owe it that no class of men 
leads a more effeminate or less anxious life. They think to 
satisfy Christ, whom they pretend to serve, "with their great 
state and magnificence, with the ceremonies of instalments, 
with the titles of Eeverence and Holiness, and with exer- 
cising their episcopal functions only in blessing and cursing. 
'' To work miracles is, they think, an obsolete custom, and 
one altogether unsuited to the present times ; to teach the 
people is too laborious ; to explain the sacred volume is to 
interfere with the prerogative of the schoolmen ; to pray is 
a proof of indolence ; to shed tears is cowardly, and shows 
a womanish weakness ; to fast is to be mean a;id sordid ; to 
be easy and familiar is to ba unworthy of one who will 
scarcely allow even the greatest kings to kiss his blessed feet ; 
... to die for religion is too self-denying ; to be crucified, 
as their Lord of Life, is base and ignominious. Their only 
weapons ought to be those of the Spirit ; and of these they 



THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 97 

are very liberal, as their interdicts, their suspensions, their 
denunciations, their aggravations, their greater and lesser 
excommunications, and their terrible bulls, by which, at 
their, pleasure, they consign the souls of mortals to the lowest 
depths of hell ; weapons which these very holy fathers and 
these vicars of Christ wield against none with greater se- 
verity than against those who, at the instigation of the 
devil, endeavour to lessen and to spoil the patrimony of St. 
Peter. Although these words are in the Gospels, ' Behold, we 
have forsaken all and followed Thee,' they yet say that the 
patrimony consists of fields, towns, taxes, tolls, lordships. 
"When inflamed with Christian zeal they are fighting in de- 
fence of these possessions, are laying waste a territory with 
fire and sword, are pouring forth the blood of Christian men 
in torrents, and are, as they say, bravely vanquishing their 
enemies, they think that they are defending the Church, the 
spouse of Christ, in a manner truly apostolical ; as if indeed 
there were any enemies of the Church more pernicious than 
impious popes . . . who corrupt the Gospel by their forced 
interpretations, and traditions, and by their lusts and wick- 
edness, grieve the Holy Spirit, and make the Saviour's wounds 
bleed afresh. Moreover, as the Christian Church was founded 
with blood, was strengthened by blood, was established 
with blood, so now, as if Christ were dead, and could not 
protect His own subjects in His own way, they wield the 
sword in defence of it. And although war is so cruel that 
it becomes wild beasts rather than men, so frantic that the 
poets represent it as sent by the Furies, so pestilential that 
it brings in its train an universal dissolution of manners, so 
unjust that it is usually carried on best by the worst rob- 
bers, so impious that it has no connection with Christ, yet, 
neglecting everything else, they make this the only business 
of life. Here you may see even decrepit old men showing 
all the vigour of youth, incurring any expense, not fatigued 

7 



98 THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 

by any toil, deterred by nothing, if only tliey can overturn 
law, religion, peace, and throw all the world into confusion. 
There are not wanting, too, learned flatterers who call this 
manifest madness, zeal, piety, valour, and discover a way in 
which a man can brandish the fatal sword, and drive it 
into the bowels of his brother, while he yet possesses 
that very great love which, according to the precept of 
Christ, he owes to his neighbour.* In truth I cannot tell 
whether or no the Popes learnt to fight|from certain German 
bishops, or whether these learnt to do so from them. They 
go further than the Heads of the Church, for they throw off 
their episcopal dress, they neglect public worship, they never 
bless the people, or think of other ceremonies of a similar 
description, and appear openly armed as warriors, account- 
ing it cowardly and unbecoming in a bishop to die at any 
other time than when he is bravely fighting on the battle- 
field. 

"Now also the common herd of priests, accounting it 
impious to degenerate from the sanctity of their diocesans, 
wage war in true military fashion for their tithes, with syl- 
logisms and arguments, as fiercely as with swords, spears, 
darts, stones, or any other kind of weapon. . . . But in the 
meantime they do not remember what they may read every- 
where, respecting the duties which they owe to the people. 
Their shorn head does not remind them that a priest ought to 
pare off and cut away all worldly lusts, and ought to meditate 
only upon heavenly things. But these very delightful men say 
that they have done their duty well if they mumble after a 
fashion their well-known prayers, which I shall be much sur- 
prised if any Saint or man can hear or understand, when they 

* The reader will at once see tliat Erasmus is, in the whole of this 
passage, writing against Pope Julius. The wonder is that he should 
have had the courage to write in the lifetime of that Pope a satire 
which was read all over Europe. 



THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 99 

are quite unintelligible and inaudible to themselves. In 
this respect the priests resemble the profane, that they all 
look carefully after the harvest of gain, and all know the 
best means of obtaining it. If there should be any bur- 
den to be borne, they prudently put it upon the shoulders 
of their neighbours, and toss it about as a ball from one to 
the other. Just as kings delegate a part of their public 
duties to their representatives, who in their turn devolve a 
part of them upon others, so they leave religion entirely to 
the people, since they are too modest to make a profession 
of it themselves. The people again say that these are the 
duties of the men whom they call ecclesiastics, as if they had 
nothing at all to do with the Church, or as if their baptism 
had been an unmeaning ceremony. Again, the priests who 
call themselves secular, thinking that their title shows that 
they belong not to Christ, but to the world, assign this task 
to the regulars, the regulars^to the monks ; while the monks 
pass it from one order to another till it comes to the Mendi- 
cants ; they lay it on the Carthusians, in whom alone piety lies 
buried, and so buried that it is scarcely ever possible to see 
it. In like manner the Popes, who are very diligent in 
reaping the pecuniary harvest, commit those duties which 
are too apostolical for them to the bishops, the bishops again 
to the pastors, the pastors to the curates, and the curates to 
the Mendicant brothers. These again return them to those 
Iby whom the wool of the sheep is shorn. 

"It is not, however, my purpose to describe the lives of 
Popes and priests, lest I should seem to be weaving a satire, 
not pronouncing a panegyric, or to be censuring good kings, 
while I praise thepvicked. But I have said a few words 
about these things, that 'everybody may understand ^that 
there is no man who can livej^appily unless he is initiated 
into my mysteries, and has me for his friend." 

Folly then, having directed her shafts against other 

7—2 



100 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 

classes, concludes her address in the following manner.''^ 
*' If I have spoken with too much petulance or loquacity, 
remember that Folly has been speaking to you, and that the 
speaker is a woman. I see that you expect an epilogue ; 
but you are very foolish if you suppose that I remember 
still anything which I have said, when I have poured forth 
so great a medley of words. . . . "Wherefore, farewell, 
plaudite, vivite, bibite, ye very distinguished votaries of 
Folly." 

This translation will give an idea of this celebrated 
work. It was not originally designed for publication, but 
having been finished, it was, at the instigation of More and 
his other friends, for whose amusement it was begun, sent 
over to be printed at Paris in the summer of 1511. In 
reply to Stunica, Erasmus says that 20,000 copies were sold 
in the course of a few months. It was read all over Europe. 
Popes, kings, cardinals, archbishops, bishops, princes, all the 
great, the gay, and the polished, who understood Latin, read 
and admired this work. Pope Leo perused it. Erasmus, too, 
he said, has his corner in the region of Folly. Neither he, 
nor any other Pope who occupied, while Erasmus lived, the 
chair of St. Peter, reproached him with the work. The 
celebrated painter, Holbein, of whom I shall speak par- 
ticularly hereafter, by that wonderful skill for which he was 
conspicuous, aided in increasing the sensation which the 
"Praise of Folly" produced throughout the continent of 
Europe. . He illustrated it with thirty-eight pictures, which 
he completed in ten days. ' The originals are preserved in 
the public library of Basle. These may be seen drawn with 
the pen in the margin, near the particular scenes and cha- 
racters to which they refer, in the Leyden edition of his 
works, and in the Basle edition of the " Praise of Folly," 
which was published in 1676. The following are some of 
* Page 3S9. 



THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 101 

them : — We see the hounds in full cry, followed by men 
with spears, who are blowing horns ; a dice-board, at which 
two men ^are seated, with foolscaps and ears, throwing 
about the dice ; a man standing in an attitude of adoration 
before an image of St. Christopher; the devil, "with his 
horns, appearing to St. Bernard ; a king with a sceptre, a 
crown, and a chain of gold round his neck, seated on his 
throne ; a bishop, with his forked mitre, liis gloves, and his 
pastoral staff; a man with a paunch, given up to ease and 
indulgence, and grasping a wine-cup, with this inscription 
underneath it — " Epicuri de grege porcum;" and Erasmus 
himself seated in his study, with his " Adages" in his hand. 
It is said that when Erasmus looked at the last but one, he 
wrote under it, " Holbein ;'•' and that when he came to his 
own, he immediately said that if Erasmus looked so well, it 
was not too late for him to begin to think of a wife. These 
scenes and characters are represented with so much skill 
that they bring before us exactly the idea which was present 
to the mind of Erasmus when he wrote his remarkable 
satire. The following Latin quotation from the Basle edition 
above referred to shows what Holbein, by his pictures, did 
for the ''Praise of Folly." 

** Eex Macedum Coo tumidus pictore cani se 
Masonio dolet, non potuisse seni. 
StultitiaB potior sors est, hanc alter Apelles, 
Pingit et eloquium, laudat, Erasme, tuum." 

This celebrated work abounds in allusions to some of the 
most elegant passages in the "writings of ancient authors. 
Many of them are to us trite and pedantic. Then, however, 
they were fresh and original. The passages quoted from 
classical writers are constantly applied in a very lively 
manner to the manners and customs of the age in which he 
lived. The following is a brief description of the plan of the 



102 THE PEAISE OF FOLLT. 

work : — Folly at first indulges in harmless pleasantry. She 
attributes to her followers the enjoyments of life which are 
unknown to the wise. Afterwards, when she has laughed 
at all the absurdities of the age, she becomes a serious 
satirist, lashing most unmercifully all, however high in 
station, who, by their vices, crimes, and^follies, had exposed 
themselves to her displeasure. Erasmus, in reply to Dor- 
pius, who blamed certain passages, says that the " Praise of 
Folly " afterwards exposed him to much censure ; and that 
he would not have composed a work so gay on subjects 
which in the issue proved so serious, if he had foreseen the 
troubles with which the Church would afterwards be 
afflicted.* This is ^one of the numerous proofs of his 
timidity. The monks, the scholastic divines, and the hypo- 
crites, against whom he directed his most envenomed shafts, 
were, when they understood the satire, very angry with 
him. He was obliged to draw up an apology, addressed 
to Dorpius in 1515. More undertook the defence of it in 
a letter to the latter, who at length owned that he was 
perfectly satisfied.t In 1542 the Sorbonne condemned 
it in severe terms, and some of his enemies procured the 
insertion of it in the Eoman index. The monks never for- 
gave him. It is indeed impossible to justify it altogether. 
The mention of the Eedeemer of the world in such a work 
was equally offensive to piety and good taste. We cannot 
doubt, however, that it produced, on the whole, a beneficial 
effect. As we shall see hereafter, by his pungent satire 
on the vices and follies of ecclesiastics, he promoted the 
progress of the Eeformation throughout the continent of 
Europe. 

* Ep, Dorpio, edit. Bas., cum notis G. Lystri, 1676, p. 237. 
t Ibid., p. 281. 



VISIT TO THE NUESEET OF HENEY VII. 10^ 



CHAPTEE V. 

INTERCOURSE WITH THE ROYAL FAMILY OF ENGLAND. — 
RESIDENCE AT CAMBRIDGE. — ACCOUNT OF HIS VISITS 
TO WALSINGHAM AND CANTERBURY IN HIS COLLOQUY, 
" PEREGRINATIO RELIGIONIS ERGO." — (A.D. 1510 — 1514.) 

Erasmus, when he was in Italy, had received before the 
death of Henry YII., from Henry, Prince of Wales, an 
elegant Latin epistle, in which he commends his style, and 
expresses his admiration of his erudition."^ This letter 
seems to have been in answer to one which he had received 
from him. Their acquaintance had begun when Henry was 
a child. Shortly before he left England in 1500, when he 
was staying with Lord Mountjoy near Greenwich, his friend 
Thomas More, who was then a student at Lincoln's Inn, 
came to pay him a visit. Soon after his arrival he took him 
out for a walk to a stately mansion, which, he was told, was 
the king's nursery.t Here he saw Prince Henry, then a hoy 
of nine years of age. On his right hand stood Lady Marga- 
ret, afterwards married to James, King of Scotland ; Lady 
Mary, four years old, was playing on his left hand ; and 
Prince Edmund was in the nurse's arms. More, and a friend 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 911, ecIit.Bas. 

+ Catalogus Op. D. Erasmi ab ipso conscriptiis, prsefixus operum 
torn, primo, edit. Bas. 



104 ODE TO THE EOTAL FAMILY OP ENGLAND. 

who accompanied him, had no sooner entered than they pre- 
sented an offering on paper to the prince. Erasmus was 
not prepared to give anything to him ; but told him that 
he would send him a literary tribute on some future occa- 
sion. He was very angry with More for having suffered 
him to come unprovided with an offering ; the more so as 
Henry sent an epistle to him at dinner as a kind of chal- 
lenge. He returned to Lord Mountjoy's house, and in three 
days produced an elegant Latin ode.* The following pass- 
age, in which England describes her wealth and fertility, is 
a very good specimen of it : — 

*'At mihi nee fontes nee ditia flumina desunt, 

Sulcive pingues, prata nee ridentia. 
Foeta viris, foecunda feris, fcecunda metallis, 

Ne glorier, quod ambiens largas opes 
Porrigit Oceanus, neu quod nee amicius uUa 

Coelum, nee aura dulcius spirat plaga." 

He then gives to the king, Henry YII., many lines of 
adulation. In reading them we must remember that this 
was the language in which it was the law to address kings. t 
He describes him as the miracle of his age, a conqueror in 
war, but a lover of peace, indulgent to others, severe only 
to himself. He adds that he wished to be feared only by 
the lawless, and to reign in the affections of his people ; 
that his country was as dear to him as Eome to the Decii, or 
Athens to Codrus, when they became victims to the public 
good ; that he was equal to Nestor in eloquence ; that he 
rivalled, nay, surpassed Caesar in intellect, and Maecenas in 
generosity. He afterwards describes in glowing language 

"' Op. torn. i. pp. 1018—1022, edit. Bas. 

+ Erasmus afterwards composed a poem on tlie coronation of 
Henry VIII., which is complimentary to him and his queen, and a 
most severe satire on the reign of his avaricious and rapacious 
father. 



EPISTLE TO PRINCE HENET. 105 

the royal children. He compares Prince Arthur to Phoebus 
■emerging from the eastern waves, and describes his noble 
•countenance and his bright eyes, in which the vigour of his 
mind was reflected j he then eulogizes " the pearl," Mar- 
garita, and the boy Henry, to whom he could not give a 
greater meed of flattery than when he told him that he was 
an exact likeness of his noble father ; and concludes with 
calling on the nymphs to shower down violets, thyme, and 
crocuses on the cradle of the infant Edmund. 

He dedicated this ode to Prince Henry, and sent it with 
an eulogistic epistle, of which the following is the substance. 
He tells him that he did not give him gold or jewels, 
because others could give them, because they were transi- 
tory possessions, and because a great king ought rather to 
give than receive them ; but that he gave him an ode, 
which he considered a far better gift, because it was one 
which very few couJd make to him, and because it would 
confer upon him immortal glory. " I have dedicated this 
trifle to you now," he adds, " in your boyhood, but I will 
give you something better hereafter, when your virtues, 
advancing with your advancing years, shall supply a wider 
field for poetry. To this I should incite you, but that your 
own natural genius prompts you to it, and you have for your 
guide and preceptor Mr. Skelton, that singular light and 
ornament of literature in Britain, who is able not only to 
promote, but to finish your studies.'^ Farewell, illustrious 
prince, be the patron of good letters; adorn them with 
your example ; protect them by your authority j improve 
them with your bounty." 

* He had described Skelton in tlie ode as directing Henry's poetic 
studies. He only spoke thus highly of him from common report, for 
he did not know English. Skelton was as yet known only by his 
verses on the fall of the house of York. He had been crowned 
with the poetic wreath at Louvain. 



106 HIS HIGH OPINION OP HENRY VIII. 

On the accession of Henry VIIl. to the throne in 1509, 
his friend, Lord Mountjoy, had, as we have seen,'urged him 
to hasten his return to this country, and had encouraged 
him to expect high preferment from the king on account of 
the favourable opinion of him which he entertained.* On 
his arrival, he fulfilled the promise in his letter, and dedi- 
cated to him a translation from Plutarch. The subject was 
*' How to know a friend from a flatterer," which, he thought, 
would be very useful to one occupying an exalted station. 
It appears that Erasmus thought very highly of the king's 
abilities. He speaks, in a letter to his friend Cockleius, of 
the excellent education given to him by his father ; gives 
many proofs of his mental powers from his letters, which 
he says that his friend. Lord Mountjoy, can prove to have 
been written by himself ; says that he had made great pro- 
gress in mathematics, and that even after his elevation to 
the throne, he would often find time, amid the harassing 
cares of royalty, to apply himself to literary and scientific 
pursuits. t He also showed his regard for Henry by vindi- 
cating his title to the kingdom of France against his 
adversary Eedda, who was very angry because Erasmus had 
mentioned it in his dedication to the king before his Para- 
phrase on St. Luke's Gospel. J That dedication had been 
made to him in acknowledgment of a present of sixty angels 
which Henry sent to him. In an epistle to Servatius, written 
as we shall see in 1514, he says that the king had given him 
many proofs of his great esteem; that he wrote to him 
when he was in Italy most affectionate letters with his own 
hand ; that he speaks in the highest terms of him ; that he 
embraced him whenever he paid his respects to him ; that 
the queen wished to have him for her instructor ; that the 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 189, edit. Bas. 

+ Ibid., p. 909, edit. Bas. 

+ Epist. And. Critio, torn. iii. p. 937, edit. Bas. 



OFFER OF THE EECTORY OP ALDHSrOTOK". 107 

king, and the Bishop of Lincoln (Wolsey), had made him. 
great promises ; and that he might have had any amount 
of preferment if he had breathed the sickly atmosphere of 
a court, and had given up his beloved studies.* 

Erasmus seems to have spent some months after his 
return to England with More, Lord Mountjoy, and Arch- 
bishop Warham. The latter had given him many proofs of 
his friendship. Erasmus tells lis that he had shown as 
much regard for him as if he had been his father or brother. 
AVarham had, without any solicitation on his part, given, 
to him in the course of a few years four hundred nobles, 
and even as much as one hundred and fifty in a day.t 
He had also in March, 1511, offered to him the Eectory of 
Aldington, near Ashford in Kent.t Erasmus at first de- 
clined it, alleging as his reason that the incumbent ought 
to reside and to feed the flock committed to his charge ; 
whereas he could not do so, because he could not speak 
English. This ignorance of our language may well astonish 
us when we consider the length of his residence in this 
country, and the intimate friendship which he had formed with 
many of its most distinguished inhabitants. Archbishop 
Warham so far respected his conscientious scruples as ta 
appoint another clergyman to the living; but he at the 
same time charged it with a pension of £20 a year to 
Erasmus. AVhen he made this arrangement, the archbishop 
said to him, '' What great service could you do, if you were to 
preach to a small country congregation ? Now you do 
much greater service by your writings, in which you teach 
the preachers themselves ; and it would seem strange if 
you did not receive a little of the Church's revenues, 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 1527, edit. Liigd. + Ibid. 

t Aldington was the parish, in which, some years after, appeared 
Elizabeth Barton, the Holy Maid of Kent, whose history is so well 
told by Mr. Froude. 



108 A PEITSIOIT CHARaED OIT ALDINGTON" RECTOET. 

I will take that matter upon myself; I will see that 
the duty is properly supplied." "He was as good as 
his word/' writes Erasmus. "He removed his suffra- 
gan, the first person appointed, who from his numer- 
ous engagements was unable to pay proper attention 
to the duties of the parish, and presented a young and 
active man, a good theologian, and a person of high charac- 
ter, to the incumbency."* 

This practice of charging a living with a pension to an 
incumbent, which he was to receive after his resignation of 
it till the time of his death, had become very common in 
England at the time before us. The archbishop had posi- 
tively forbidden it in his diocese, because it led to simoniacal 
contracts, and because it was very injurious to the rights of 
patrons. He made an exception, however, in favour of 
Erasmus, assigning the following very satisfactory reason 
for it. He states that no one ought to wonder that he had 
not kept his resolution in the present instance, because 
Erasmus was a man of consummate knowledge of Greek and 
Latin literature, who, by his learning and eloquence, adorned 
like a star the age in which he lived. He adds, that though 
he was a m^ost learned divine, and conversant with ever}' 
other branch of learning, as well as a most eloquent writer 
of Greek and Latin, he could not explain the word of God 
to his parishioners in the English language. He had, there- 
fore, asked him to appoint another person to the living, and 
to charge it with a pension to himself, by which arrange- 
ment he would not only consult the best interests of the 
parish, but also enable Erasmus to devote himself altogether 
to his favourite studies. He says that he had the less hesi- 
tation in complying with his request, because Erasmus had 
shown a wonderful love to the English nation ; so that, 
despising Italy, France, and Germany, in which countries 
* Eccleaiastes, Op. torn. v. p. 678, edit. Bas. 



EESIDENCE AT CAMBRIDGE. 109 

he miglit have enjoyed some degree of opulence, he had 
come to spend the remainder of his life with his friends in 
this country, and to give them the pleasure of his learned 
conversation.* 

Erasmus appears to have gone to the University of Cam- 
bridge about August, 1511. t He probably visited Cam- 
bridge for the first time, and was made bachelor of divinity, 
in the early part of 1506. He owed all his advantages at 
it to the celebrated Fisher, Bishop of Eochester, who, as all 
students of history will remember, was beheaded for deny- 
ing the king's supremacy. This prelate, who was one of 
the great patrons of Erasmus, was very anxious for the 
restoration of learning at Cambridge, and hoped by his 
means to accomplish his object. He promoted him therefore 
to the Lady Margaret Professorship of Divinity, and after- 
wards to the Greek Professor's chair. As his means were 
not very abundant, the bishop supplied him with money. 
Erasmus lived vfitli him at Queen's College, of which he 
was president, and accompanied him wherever he moved.J 
In compliance with his request, Erasmus drew up the Latin 
epitaph for the tomb of his friend and benefactress, Marga- 
ret, Countess of Richmond, in "Westminster Abbey. He 
received for it twenty shillings. 

Erasmus, when he was in England, often made excursions 
into the country. He tells the following amusing story of 
an incident which occurred as he was on his way to Eich- 

* See the original deed taken out of Arclibisliop Warham's Eegis- 
try in the Appendix to Knight's " Life of Erasmus," p. 40. 

+ At this date his letters from Cambridge begin. 

X His rooms are still shown. A walk in the gardens is even now 
called by his name. His corkscrew is kept by the bursar of the 
college. The inference from this relic is that the strong beer of 
Cambridge did not agree with him, and that he drank wine instead 
of it. 



110 AN APPARITION. 

mond. It is to be found in one of the most entertaining of 
his Colloquies, which is called " Exorcismus, sive Spectrum."* 
I wish that I could find space for the whole of it, as the 
perusal of it would be advantageous to those who readily 
believe tales of apparitions. His friend Pole was the con- 
triver of the deceit. It shows how easily a belief in the 
marvellous was propagated in those days. " Several of us 
were riding together to Eichmond. Amongst them there 
were some whom you Vv^ould call discreet men. The sky was 
wonderfully serene ; there was not the appearance of a cloud 
upon it. Pole, looking with fixed eyes upwards, made the 
sign of the cross on his face and shoulders ; and composing 
his features so as to express the feeling uppermost in his 
mind, uttered an exclamation of wonder. When those who 
rode next to him asked him what he saw, again marking 
himself with a larger cross, he exclaimed, *May a most 
merciful God avert from us this prodigy !' When they 
pressed upon him, eager to know what was the matter, fix- 
ing his eyes upon the skj^ and pointing to a particular part 
of it, he said, * Do you not see there a large dragon, armed 
with fiery horns, having his tail twisted into a circle?' 
When they told him that they could not -see it, he told 
them to look fixedly towards it, and often showed them the 
exact place. At length one of them, fearing that he should 
seem to be short-sighted, declared that he also saw it. His 
example was followed first by one, then by another ; for 
they were ashamed not to see what was so very plain. In 
short, within three days the report was spread all over 
England, that this wonderful sight had been seen. It is 
surprising how much popular report added to the story. 
Some gave a serious interpretation to this prodigy. He who 
had invented it laughed heartily at their folly." 

* Colloquia cum notis selectis variorum, Lugcl. Batav., 1G64. 
Accurante Corn. SchreveUio, p. 337. 



VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. Ill 

In the autumn of 1513 he made a pilgrimage from Cam- 
l)ridge to the shrine of our Lady of Walsingham, of which 
he has given the following amusing account in his Colloquy 
of the ''Religious Pilgrimage."- The persons who hold the 
conversation are Menedemus and Ogygius. The former 
had missed the latter for six months from the neighbour- 
hood. He meets him, and asks him what had become of 
him during that time. He was informed that he had been on 
a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostella, and 
of the Virgin in England. The conversation is then carried 
on between them in the following manner : — 

Men. — I have often heard of the first. I should be much 
obliged to you to give me an account of the second. 

Og. — I will gladly do so in as few words as possible. Her 
name is very celebrated throughout England. You will not 
find a person in that island who expects to do well unless he 
makes every year an offering at it according to his means. 
The Virgin dwells at the extreme coast of England on the 
north-west, about three miles from the sea.t The inhabitants 
gain their livelihood chiefly by the crowd of visitors to the 
shrine. There is a college of canons there, whom the Latins 
call by the name of regulars, a middle sort between the 
monks and the canons called secular. . . . This has scarcely 
any revenue but what arises from the liberality of the 
Virgin. % The larger offerings are laid up in store ; but if 

* Op. torn. i. p. 656, edit. Bas. 

t Erasmus is not quite correct in this description. Walsinghara 
is in Norfolk, about seven miles from Wells, the nearest seaport, and 
about eight miles from the sea. Most of the j)ilgrims would land 
at Lynn, which is twenty-seven miles distant. 

% Erasmus was not correctly informed. The priory had consider- 
able landed property. The annual income in 28th Henry VIII. was 
£391. lis. Id. The offerings were as follows : — at the chapel of the 
Virgin, £250. Is.; at the sacred milk, £2. 2s. 3d.; at the chaxDel of 
St. Lawrence, £S. 9s. l|d. 



112 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 

there should be any coin, or anything of small value, it is 
applied to the support of the flock and of their head, who 
is called a prior.* 

Men. — Do they lead a good life 1 

Og. — Eeputable enough. They are richer in piety than in 
their annual income. The church is graceful and elegant ; 
the Virgin, however, does not reside in it, but has done her 
Son the honour to give it to Him. . . . She has her own 
church, that she may be on her Son's right hand. She had 
not, hov»^ever, yet made it her abode j for it is unfinished, 
and stands without doors and windows ; and near is the 
ocean, the father of winds. 

Men. — A hard case. Where then does she reside ?t 

Og. — In the church which I have described as unfinished 
there is a narrow wooden chapel, with a narrow wdcket on 
each side for the admission and departure of the pilgrims. 

^ The pilgrimages to Walsingliam commenced in or before the reign 
of Henry III., who was there in 1241. The letter written by Queen 
Catherine of Arragon to Henry 'VIII., announcing the victory of 
riodden, commences with telling him that she was on her way to 
Walsingham. The people supposed that the galaxy, or milky way, 
was placed in the heavens to guide pilgrims by night to Walsingham, 
and is therefore sometimes called the Walsingham way. Edward I. 
was there in 1280 and 1290, and Edward II. in 1315. 

t This description of the churches of Walsingham priory is correct. 
There were two — the priory church, and the wooden chapel of the 
Virgin, around which the new work of stone had been erected, but 
was never finished, as he has described it. The surface of the soil 
had been so changed, and so occupied by the gravel walks and shrub- 
beries of an ornamental pleasure ground, that though it was well 
known that the Lady Chapel was 200 feet from the wells referred to 
presently, yet it was for a long time considered imj)racticable to ex- 
cavate with the view of discovering the site. Thus the wonder-work- 
ing spot, where stood the shrine which kings visited bare-footed, was 
for a long time undiscovered. Excavations made about twenty years 
ago have, however, shown its foundations. 



VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 113 

There is scarcelj^ any light in it excepting from wax tapers. 
A fragrant odour is diffused through it. 

Men. — Ail this harmonizes well with religious worship. 

Og. — If, Menedemus, you look inside, you will say that it 
is an abode worthy of the Saints ; for it is resplendent with 
jewels, gold, and silver. ... In the innermost chapel, which 
I have called the shrine of the Blessed Virgin, a canon stands 
near the altar. 

Men. — For what purpose 1 

Og.— To receive and guard the offerings. 

Men. — Do those give who are unwilling to do so 1 

Og. — Certainly not. A kind of pious modesty actuates 
some, who will give if anj^ one be near, or will give rather 
more than they intended, but who will give nothing if there 
is no one to see them. 

Men. — That is a natural feeling, and one not altogether 
unknown to me. 

Og. — Nay, there are some so devoted to the most holy Vir- 
gin, that while they pretend to put an offering on the altar, 
they take away with wonderful dexterity what some one else 
has placed upon it. . . . On the northern side there is a door, 
not in the church, but in the outer wall, with which the 
whole space adjacent to the church is surrounded. There is 
in it a very little wicket, such as we see in the folding-gates 
of the nobility. Those who wish to enter must first bend 
the knee, and then lower their heads. 

Men. — Certainly it would not be safe for an enemy to 
enter through such a wicket. 

Og. — You are quite right. The man who shows strangers 
the curiosities tells every one that a knight on horseback 
escaped through this gate from his enemy, who was in close 
pursuit. The unhappy man, who was in a state of despair, 
suddenly determined to make the blessed Virgin, who was 
in the neighbourhood, his preserver. For he had made up 



114 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 

his mind to fly to her altar if the gate should be open. 
Now hear and wonder. On a sudden the knight was quite 
within the wall of the church, while his enemy was stand- 
ing, full of fury, outside it.'"^ 

Men. — Can he persuade people to believe this wonderful 
story % 

Og.— Yes, 

Men. — He would find it a very difficult matter to make- 
a philosopher like you believe it. 

Og. — He showed me a brass plate fastened to the gate 
with nails, on which was the likeness of the knight who had 
been preserved, in the dress worn in those days by the 
English. We see it in the older pictures. If it is a correct 
representation, the barbers, dyers, and weavers of those 
days must have starved. 

Men.— Why so ? 

Og, — Because he had a beard like a goat, and his whole 
garment had not a single wrinkle in it, and was no larger 
than the body, so that, being drawn close, it made the body 
somewhat narrow. . . . Under the wicket was an iron grat- 
ing, through which only one on foot could pass. It was not 
right that a horse should tread on ground which the knight 
had consecrated to the Virgin. 

Men. — This is as it should be: 

* The English version of the story is cited in Blomefield's "His- 
tory of Norfolk," from an old manuscript, which describes the wicket- 
gate as "not past an elne high, and three quarters in bredth. And 
a certain Norfolk knight, Sir Kaaf Botetourt, armed cap-a-pee and on 
horseback, being in days of old, 1314, pursued by a cruel enemy, and 
in the utmost danger of being taken, made full speed for this gate, 
and invoking this Lady for his deliverance, he immediately found 
himself and his horse within the close and sanctuary of the Priory, in 
a safe asylum, and so fooled his enemy," The name of "Knight 
Street " is the only local evidence now remaining of the scene of this 
exploit. 



VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 115 

Og. — To the east of it is a chapel full of wonders, to which 
I then proceeded. Another person came forward to show 
them to me. AVe prayed in it for a short time. A joint of 
the middle finger of a man was shown to us. I kissed it, 
and' asked whose it was. The answer was, "St. Peter's." 
" What, the apostle T I said. The reply was, " Yes." Then 
looking at the joint, which seemed to be as large as a giant's, 
I said, " St. Peter must then have been a man of enormous 
size." Hereupon I was much annoyed to find one of my com- 
panions bursting out into a hoarse laugh ; for if he had been 
quiet, the sexton would, without hesitation, have shown to 
us all the other wonders. However, we pacified him by 
giving him money. Before the shrine was a shed, which is 
said to have been suddenly brought in winter-time, when the 
country was covered with snow, from a great distance to 
that spot. Under this house are two wells, full up to the 
top.* We were told that the fountain is sacred to the 
blessed Virgin. The water is very cold, and is of service for 
the headache and stomach-ache. 

Mm. — If cold water should serve as a cure for pains of 
this description, we may hereafter expect oil to extinguish 
fire. 

Og. — You are hearing of a miracle, my good man. If 
this cold water could only quench our thirst, there would be 
nothing miraculous in it \ and this is only one part of the 
story. . . . The fountain is said to have suddenly sprung 
forth from the earth at the command of the most holy 
Virgin. As I was carefully looking round at everything, I 
asked how many years ago that little house had been 
brought to that place. The answer was, " Several centu- 

* These wells still exist, lined with ashlar stone, and near them is 
a bath called the wishing-well. The popular idea was that the devotees 
to the Lady of Walsingham were taught to believe that when they 
drank of this water they might obtain what they then wished for. 

8—2 



116 VISIT TO -WALSINGHAM. 

lies." " Bat the walls," I said, '^ do not show any signs of 
age." He did not deny it. " Nor," I continued, ^' do these 
wooden posts." He admitted that they had been lately 
placed there, and indeed the thing spoke for itself. *' Then 
this roof and thatch seem to be new." He agreed with me. 
" Even these cross-beams, too, and the rafters on which the 
straws rest, seem to have been fixed not many years ago." 
He nodded assent. When I had thus disposed of every 
part of the house, I asked him, " How does it appear that 
this house has been brought from a great distance ?" 
Men. — Oh, tell me how he got out of this difficulty. 
Og. — Why, he showed us a very old bear-skin fixed to 
the rafters, and almost laughed at our dulness because we 
did not see this convincing proof of the truth of what he 
said.* Convinced in this manner, and admitting that we 
were dull indeed, we turned to the heavenly milk of the 
blessed Virgin. 

Men. — The mother in truth seems to be "exactly like the 
Son. He left a large quantity of His blood in the world ; 
she has left far more milk than you could suppose that a 
woman who has brought forth one child could produce, even 
if the infant had drunk none of it. 

Og. — They make the same pretence respecting the wood 
of the cross, which is shown in public and private in so 
many places. If all the fragments were brought together, 
they would seem a proper load for a merchant-ship,' and yet 
our Lord carried the whole of His cross. 

Men. — Does not this appear strange to you 1 

Og. — It may be said to be something new, but scarcely 

* In the queries prepared for tlie visitors sent by Henry VIII. to 
make inquiry at Walsingliam, it is asked, "Wliat of the house where 
the beere-skin is, and of the knyght ?" and they conclude with asking 
** whether the house over the welles were not made within time of re- 
membraunce ?" These questions were probably su^ggested by reading 
Erasmus's work. 



VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 117 

strange, since the Lord who increases it at His pleasure is 
omnipotent. 

Men. — You give a pious explanation of the matter, but I 
fear that many of these things are invented for gain. 

Og. — I do not think that God wdll allow any one to mock 
Him in this manner. . . . But now hear what 
I have to say to you besides. That milk is kept on the 
high altar, in the middle of which is Christ, with His mother 
on the right hand, as the post of honour. For the milk 
represents the Virgin Mother. 

Men. — It can, then, be seen 1 

Og. — Yes, in a crystal vessel. 

Men. — It is, then, liquid *? 

Og. — How can you suppose it to be liquid, when it is 
more than 1500 years old? It is concrete, and looks like 
beaten chalk tempered with the white of an egg. 

Men.—'Whjy then, do they not show it uncovered ? 

Og. — That the milk of the Virgin may not be polluted by 
the kisses of the men. 

Men. — That is as it should be ; for some would (I think) 
touch it with impure lips.* 

Og. — When the canon in attendance saw us, he ran 
towards us, put on his surplice, placed the sacred stole 
round his neck, and fell down most devoutly to worship. 
He then gave us the sacred milk to kiss. Afterwards we 
also fell down on the lowest step of the altar, and having 
first called upon Christ, we addressed the Virgin in the 
following prayer, which I had prepared for this occasion : 
" Virgin Mother, who hast been thought worthy to 
give suck from thy breasts to thy Son Jesus, the Lord of 
heaven and earth, we pray that, purified by His blood, we 
also may attain to that happy infancy of dove-like sim~ 

* Some pilgrims were neither pure nor chaste. The justice of this 
stigma is confirmed by numerous authors, ancient and modern. 



118 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 

plicity, which, ignorant of deceit and guile, desires con- 
tinually the milk of evangelical doctrine, until it comes to 
a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fulness 
of Christ, with whom thou shalt live for ever, with the 
Father and the Holy Ghost. Amen." 

Men. — A pious prayer truly ! What followed ? 

Og. — Unless I am very much mistaken, Christ and His 
Mother seemed to be propitious to me. For the sacred 
milk appeared to leap up, and the Eucharist became some- 
what brighter. In the meantime the canon silently 
approached us, holding out a little box, like those presented 
by the toll-collectors on the bridges in Germany. . . . We 
gave him some pence, which he presented to the Virgin. 
Presently I inquired, with as much politeness as possible, 
through an interpreter well acquainted with the English 
language, a young man of pleasing address (whose name, if 
I am not mistaken, was Robert Aldridge), how it could be 
proved that this was the real milk of the Virgin. I was 
anxious to obtain the information, because I was influenced 
by the pious wish of stopping the mouths of certain profane 
persons, who usually turn everything of this kind into ridi- 
cule. The man looked at us with a frown, but did not say 
a word. I requested my interpreter to repeat the question. 
He did so in the most courteous manner possible. Imme- 
diately the man, as if he had become the subject of a super- 
natural influence, regarding us with utter astonishment, and 
looking as if he were horror-stricken at our blasphemy, said, 
*'Why need you ask that question, when you have an 
authentic record of it?" And he seemed as if he would 
have cast us out of the church as heretics, if we had not 
appeased his anger by giving him a few pence. 

Men. — How did you feel in the meantime ? 

Og. — You may easily imagine. We drew back just as if 
we had been struck with a club, or blasted with thunder, 



VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 119 

liumbly imploring pardon for our boldness. ... I was 
anxious now to see the inscription to which the man re- 
ferred us. After having looked for it for some time, we at 
length found it placed against the wall, so that not every 
one could read it. As Aldridge was reading it, I carefully 
followed him with my eyes, not trusting altogether to him 
in so important a matter. 

Men. — Were all your doubts removed 1 

Og. — I was ashamed of having ever entertained the least 
doubt. Everything was brought plainly before me, the 
name, the place, the story, all in dae order ; in short, no- 
tliing was omitted. The name was William. He was born 
at Paris. He was a man of great piety, which showed itself 
chiefly in a diligent search for the relics of the Saints 
throughout the world. Having gone on a pilgrimage to 
many countries, and having examined the monasteries and 
temples in them, he at length came to Constantinople, of 
which his brother was the bishop. As he was preparing to 
return, the latter informed him that there was a certain 
holy virgin, who had the milk of the Virgin Mother, and 
that he would be very fortunate if he could beg or buy 
from her a part of it, for all the relics which he had hitherto 
collected were nothing when compared with the holy milk. 
Accordingly William did not rest till he had begged 
■earnestly for half of it. Having obtained it, he seemed 
with his treasure to be richer than Croesus. ... He im- 
mediately hastened home, but fell ill on his journey. When 
he found himself in danger, he privately sent for a French- 
man, a most faithful companion of his pilgrimage. He 
then gave the holy milk to his charge on this condition, 
that if he should return home safely, he should deposit that 
treasure on the altar of the Holy Virgin, who is worshipped 
in a magnificent church at Paris, which looks on either side on 



120 VISIT TO WALSIISTGHAM. 

the channel of the Seine.* . . . After the burial of William, 
the other hastens on his journey, and is likewise attacked 
with illness. Despairing of his recovery, he gave the milk 
to an English friend, and conjured him to do what he had 
intended to do himself. After his death, his friend took it 
and placed it upon the altar in the presence of the canons of 
that place, who were then, as still, called Eegulars, as they 
now are at St. Genevieve. He obtained from them half 
the milk, and carried it to England. He at last, under the 
guidance of the Holy Spirit, carried it to Walsingham. . . . 
Having gone through everything, while we were walking 
about and preparing to take our departure, looking round 
to see if there were anything else worth seeing, some of the 
inferior brethren again come to us. They look at us askance, 
they point with their fingers, they run forward, they go 
away from us, they return, they nod to us, and seem as if 
the}' would address us, if only they could summon up bold- 
ness to do so. 

Men. — Were you at all afraid ? 

Og. — On the contrary, I turned towards them, smiling and 
looking at them as if I invited them to address me. At 
length one approached, and asked my name. I gave it to 
him. He then asked me if I were the person who, two 
years ago, fixed to the wall the votive tablets in the Hebrew 
letters. I said that I had done it. 

Men. — Do you write Hebrew 1 

Og. — No, but whatever they do not understand they call 
Hebrew. Soon the sub-prior of the college came, having 
been, as I expect, sent for by them. ... He addressed me 
very courteously, and told me how many had endeavoured 
to read those verses, and how many glasses had been wiped 
to no purpose. Whenever any old professor of theology 

■* He means the island which the Seine forms in the middle of the 
city of Paris. 



VISIT TO T7ALSIKGHAM. 121 

or of law paid them a visit, tliey showed him the tablet. 
One said that the letters were Arabian ; another, that they 
had no meaning. One was at length found who could read 
the title. It was Latin, written in Latin capital letters. 
The verses were Greek, written in Greek capital letters, 
which at first sight appeared to resemble the Latin capitals. 
Having been asked to do so, I explained the meaning of the 
verses in Latin, translating word for word. They offered 
me a small reward for my trouble, but I persisted in refus- 
ing it, saying that there was no labour, however arduous, 
which I would not gladly undertake in honour of the m^ost 
Holy Virgin ; that if she directed me to do so, I would even 
most gladly carry letters thence to Jerusalem. . . . He 
produced from his bag a fragment of wood, cut from a 
beam on which the Virgin Mother was seen to rest. A 
wonderful scent from it immediately convinced me that it 
was very sacred. Bending forward with bare head, I kissed 
several times most reverently this very valuable present, 
and put it in my bag. ... I would not exchange it for all 
the gold of Tagus.* . . . Then the sub-prior, when he saw 
me contemplating that gift with a holy joy, judging me not 
unworthy of having information on more important matters 
given to me, asked me whether I had ever seen the secrets 
of the Virgin. That question rather frightened me. I did 
not dare to ask his meaning ; for in sacred matters a slip of 
the tongue is dangerous. I said that I had not seen them, 
but that I was most anxious to do so. I was led on as it 
were by a divine influence. Several wax tapers were lighted. 
An image was then shown to me, not remarkable for its 
size, nor for the material of which it was made, nor for the 
workmanship bestowed upon it, but possessing very great 

* M(fSt of the ancient writers say that the Tagns rolls down goldea 
sands. Thus Ovid ; 

*' Quodque sue Tagus amne vehit, Unit ignibus aurum." 



122 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 

virtue. ... At the feet of the Virgin was a jewel, which 
has no name yet among the Latins or Greeks. The French 
have given it a name derived from a toad, because it bears 
a resemblance to it such as the most skilful artist cannot 
produce.'^ The miracle is the greater because, though the 
the stone is small, the figure of the toad does not project, 
but is seen through it, being as it were enclosed in the 
jewel itself. 

Men. — Perhaps they imagine that it is like a toad, just as 
boys see in the clouds dragons breathing fire, volcanic 
mountains, and armed men meeting in battle. 

Og. — I assure you that it is exactly like a living toad. 

Men. — Thus far I have listened with patience to your 
tales. You must find some one else to believe this tale 
about the toad. 

Og. — I am not surprised^ Menedemus, to hear that this is 
your feeling. No one would have convinced me of its 
truth, even if a whole college of divines had asserted it, if I 
had not seen it with these eyes. . . . The man then showed 
lis gold and silver figures. This, he said, is entirely of gold. 
This is silver gilt. He then informed us of the weight and 
price of every one of them, and of the name of the maker. 
When full of admiration I said that the Virgin must be 
happy indeed, because she possesses this abundance of gifts ; 
the man said to me, " Since you are so devout a spectator, 
I do not think it right to hide anything from you ; you 
shall see the things belonging to the Virgin which are not 
shown to everybody." Having said this, he took out of 
the altar itself all sorts of wonderful thinofs. If I were to 



"t>" 



* The word alluded to is crapaudine. That which seems to 
answer nearest to the description is a kind of stone supposed to be 
found in the head of a toad, and which is really the tooth or palate 
of a fish petrified. This, however, does not quite correspond to the 
pellucid stone mentioned by Erasmus. 



VISIT TO WALSmGHAM. 123 

attempt to describe every part of them, I could not finisli 
my story in a day. Thus that pilgrimage ended very well 
for me. I was quite satiated -vrith sight-seeing, and I carry 
with me this very valuable gift, a pledge given to me by the 
Virgin herself. 

Men. — Have you never made any trial of the virtues of 
the wood ? 

Og. — Yes. In an inn, three days afterwards, I found a man 
in a state of frenzy, for whom chains were being prepared. 
I placed the wood without his knowledge against his brain. 
He fell into a deep sleep, which lasted for some time. AYhen 
he rose in the morning, he had recovered his senses. 

jllf<3?i.— Perhaps it was not frenzy, but intoxication, which 
sleep always removes. 

Og. — Ylien you wish to joke, Menedemus, seek another 
subject. It is not pious nor safe to joke against the Saints. 
The man himself said that a woman of surpassing beauty 
appeared to him in his sleep, holding out to him a cup. 
Men. — I should think that it contained hellebore. 
Og. — I do not know. One thing is C[uite certain, that 
the man recovered his senses. 

Such is the description of this pilgrimage given by Eras- 
mus. Eobert Aldridge, here referred to, was afterwards 
Bishop of Carlisle.* He had previously been Master of 
Eton School, Fellow and Provost of Eton, and Canon of 
Windsor. Erasmus speaks of the Greek ode in a letter to his 
friend Ammonius, dated in the previous May. He writes, 
"I know that you approve of a religious spirit. I intend 
to pay a visit to the shrine of the Virgin at "Walsingham, 
and to hang up a Greek ode as a votive offering. When 

* Seebohm's "Oxford Eeformers," p. 273, and Knight's "Life," 
p. 144. See also a letter to Aldridge in Eras. Op. torn, iii.p. 790, edit. 
Bas. From his Epistles to Erasmus it appears that he was an elegant 
Latin writer. 



124 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 

5^011 go there ask for it.""' He says in the ode, that "while 
some went to the shrine for wealth, others for health, others 
to ask for a long life equal to that of Nestor, he went ta 
obtain the greatest of all gifts, a pure and enlightened con- 
science. "t It is evident, however, from several passages in 
which he plainly scoffs at the superstitions which were 
practised at Walsingham, that he is not to be considered as 
a devout worshipper of the Virgin ; that he thought that a 
better use might be made of the money spent on these 
expeditions ; that in fact the Colloquy is a bitter satire 
against all this superstition ; and that he considered that 
the " Eomish doctrine concerning worshipping and adora- 
tion, as well of Images as of Eeliques, is," to use the words 
of the twenty-second article of the Church of England, "a 
fond thing vainly invented, and grounded on no warranty of 
Scripture, but rather repugnant to the Word of God." 

But matters of this description were not suffered long 
to interrupt the work, to the prosecution of which he 
had determined to devote his energies. From his letters 
at Cambridge during 1511 and 1513, we find that he was 
busily engaged on an edition of the New Testament in 
Greek, accompanied by a Latin translation designed to 
correct the errors of the Vulgate. :j: We find also that he 
was working hard at the correction of the text of St. Jerome. 
He had also found time, not only to assist Colet with his 
advice respecting the celebrated school, now called St. Paul's 
School, which he was founding, at his own expense, for the 
free education of 153 children, but also to draw up a treatise 
De Copia Verborum for the use of the scholars. § He was also 
engaged in doing battle with the schoolmen. His " Com- 

* Op. torn, iii. p, 291, edit. Bas. 

+ Ibid., torn. V. p. 1109, edit. Bas. 

J Seebohm's " Oxford's lieformers," p. 277. 

§ Ibid., p. 216. 



THE KXO-^LEDGE EXPECTED FROM A MASTER. 125 

mentariolus de Eatione Stiidii," published in 1512, deserves 
more than a passing reference on account of the vast amount 
of knowledge which he expects from a master. 

'' He must pay most attention to the works of the best au- 
thors ; but he must not leave any unread, even if they should 
be written by inferior men. First he must go to the fountain- 
head, that is, to the Greeks and the ancients. Plato, Aris- 
totle, Theophrastus, the disciple of the latter, and Plotinus, 
in whom the two are combined, mil be his best instructors 
in philosophy. With regard to commentators on the sacred 
volume, none will teach him better than Origen, none in a 
more simple or agreeable manner than Chrysostom, none in 
a holier manner than Basil. ... If he cannot spend much 
time upon every one, he must yet take something from all 
of them. Certainly with a view to the explanation of the 
poets, whose custom it is to lay every kind of learning under 
contribution, he must make himself acquainted with their 
mythology, which he can learn from no one better than from 
Homer, who is the father of it. The ^Metamorphoses and 
Fasti of Ovid will give him here not a little assistance, 
although they are written in Latin. He must learn geo- 
graphy, which is important in the study of history, and in 
reading the poets. On this subject Pomponius Mela has 
written a very short treatise, Ptolemy a very learned, and 
Pliny a very laborious one. For Strabo is not the only 
writer upon it. Here he must particularly observe what 
modern names of mountains, rivers, countries, cities, answer 
to the old ones. He ought to take the same pains in re^-ard 
to names of trees, herbs, animals, tools, clothes, and gems, of 
which it is surprising how ignorant learned men generally 
are. This information is to be obtained from different 
authors who have written on agriculture, on war, on archi- 
tecture, on cookery, on jewels, on plants, and on the nature 
of animals. . . . He must obtain information reo-ardino- 



126 DETERMINATION TO LEAVE ENGLAND. 

ancient times, not only from the old writers, but also from 
old coins, from inscriptions, and from stones. He must also 
learn the genealogy of the gods, of whom their fables are 
full. He must understand astrology. ... He must be ac- 
quainted with the nature and properties of all things, be- 
cause the poets borrow from them their similes, epithets, 
comparisons, images, metaphors, and other figures of that de- 
scription. He must also carefully study history, which is 
useful in many more matters than in the explanation of the 
meaning of the poet. . . , In a word, there is no part of the 
art of war, of agriculture, of music, of architecture, a know- 
ledge of which may not be useful to those who undertake to 
explain the works of the poets or the ancient orators. But 
you will say that I am putting an immense load on the 
teacher. I admit it ; but I only burden the one that I may 
release thie many. I want him to examine everything, that 
he may save his scholars from doing so."''' 

Erasmus, after having resided for more than two years in 
the University of Cambridge, made up his mind to take his- 
Ideparture from England. He says, in a letter to Cardinal 
JG-rimanus, that he had been attracted to this country by 
Inagnificent promises, but had been in some measure disap- 
fpointed in his expectations, t Perhaps one reason was that 
iie had not followed the advice which he had given in a jest- 
ing tone to his friend Ammonius of Lucca, the Latin secre- 
tary to Henry YIIL, with whom he had formed a great 
friendship during his residence in England. "First of all," 
he said, "be impudent, thrust yourself into all affairs, elbow 
those who stand in your way, love and hate no one in good 
earnest, but consult your own advantage, give nothing with- 

* Op. torn. i. p. 446, edit. Bas. 
t Op. torn. iii. p. 68, edit. Bas. 



OUT OP HUMOUR WITH CAMBRIDGE. 127 

out a prospect of gaining by it, be of the opinion of every 
one with whom you have to do."'" 

Foreign countries had contended, and were still con- 
tending, as we shall see directly, for the honour of en- 
rolling him amongst their citizens. But hitherto, for 
reasons already given, he had preferred England to all of 
them, and had determined to make it his permanent home. 
The same contention for him had been carried on, as he 
informs us, between the Universities of Oxford and Cam- 
bridge.t But the latter had not fulfilled the liberal pro- 
mises which had induced him to teach the Greek language 
and theology to the students. He was now quite out of 
humour with the University, and threatened to keep his quar- 
antine, and to take his departure in forty days, if better for- 
tune should not befall him, of which he has not at present the 
least expectation. J He laid bare his griefs in a letter to his 
friend Ammonius in November, 1513, telling him how weary 
he was of Cambridge, Avhere he had lived nearly four months 
like a snail in his shell, as it had been deserted on account of 
the plague ; that he had spent sixty nobles, and had received 
barely one from any of his pupils ; and that he was resolved 
very soon to depart from the University. § The necessity of 
taking pupils, and of applying himself to secular studies, 
which, in consequence of his scanty means, was imposed upon 
him, had the effect of weighing down his spirit to the earth, 
and of distracting his thoughts from that work to which he 
was anxious to apply himself with unremitting ardour. He 
had hitherto, by the kindness of some of his friends, been 
saved from actual want. We have seen how Warham had 
provided for him. He speaks in the highest terms of his 

* Op, torn. iii. p. 290, edit, Bas. 

+ Op. torn. iii. p, ] 527, edit. Lugd. 

J Epist. Gonello, Op, torn, iii, p. 264, edit. Bas. 

§ Op. torn. iii. p. 292. edit. Bas. 



128 HIS INTEEYIEW WITH CAITOSSA. 

disinterested liberality.* We are informed also that he had 
received from other bishops above a hundred nobles ; and 
that his friend, Lord Mountjoy, gave him an annual pension 
of one hundred crowns.t But he could not expect that 
their bounty would flow on in a perennial stream. It might 
have been greater but for the war which Henry was carry- 
ing on for the recovery of France, and which Erasmus took 
every opportunity of condemning. He therefore determined 
to accept the first appointment which might save him from 
mendicancy, of which he was ashamed, and might render 
him altogether independent of the precarious liberality of 
strangers. 

We cannot be surprised therefore to learn that he de- 
parted from Cambridge at the latter end of 1513, having 
accepted from the Emperor Charles the Great a post in his 
Council, an annual pension of 200 florins, and a benefice, a 
Canonry of Oourtray.J He was in London in February, 1514. 

I shall now give in his own words an amusing story of a 
conversation which he had at Westminster, at the lodgings of 
his friend Ammonius, with Canossa, an Italian, the Pope's 
legate: "Andreas Ammonius had invitedme to dinner. Icame, 
not having the least idea that there was a conspiracy against 
me, for I was very much attached to him. I found with 
liim a man in a long robe, having his hair bound up in a 
net, attended by one servant. I conversed with Ammonius, 
not having the least suspicion that he was Canossa. Won- 
dering at the military sternness of the man, I asked An- 
dreas in Greek who he was. He answered also in Greek, 
^ He is a great merchant.' During dinner as usual I con- 
versed with Ammonius, and told him stories, not concealing 

* Epist. Cardinali Grimano, Oj). torn, iii. p. 68, edit. Bas. 
t Epist. Servatio, Jortin's "Life," vol. ii. p. 322. 
J Epist. Leoni X,, Op. torn. iii. p. 73, edit. Bas. 



HIS INTEEVIETT WITH CANOSSA. 129 

my contempt for the merchant. At length I asked Andreas 
■whether the report were true that a legate had come by the 
order of Leo X. to bring about a peace between the Kings 
of France and England. He said, ' Yes.' ' The Sovereign 
Pontiff/ I replied, ' will not take me into his counsels. If 
he had done so I should have given him different advice/ 
* Why V said Ammonius. ' ' It w^as not desirable/ I said, ' to 
talk about peace.' I shortly afterwards asked whether it 
were true that he was a Cardinal. He made a shuffling reply. 
Presently he said, ' He has the spirit of a Cardinal.' At length 
the stranger said something in Italian, mixing in with it a 
few Latin words, in such a manner that you might easily dis- 
cover that he was an intelligent merchant. Turning to me, 
he said, ' I wonder that you live in this barbarous country, 
unless it is that you would rather stand alone here, than be the 
first at Eome.' Astonished at this smartness in a merchant, 
I replied, ' I am living in a country wbich contains many 
men remarkable for their learning, among whom I would 
rather have the last place than be nowhere at Eome.' Being 
very angry with the merchant, I said this, and much more. 
I think that my good genius was then at my side ; other- 
wise Ammonius would have exposed me to the greatest 
danger, for he was not ignorant how plainly I say w^hatever 
comes uppermost. After we rose from dinner Andreas and 
I walked some time longer in the garden." Erasmus says 
afterwards that the apartment where they dined looked 
towards the Thames, and that he returned on foot to Ms 
lodging, instead of returning by the boat."^ 

He afterwards discovered that he had been conversing 
with the Pope's agent, Cardinal Canossa. He was also 
informed that the legate wished him to accompany him to 
Eome; but he refused to do so, because he was afraid 
that he had made him his enemy, or displeased him by his 
* Eras. Germ. Brixio, torn. iii. p. 1458, edit. Lugd. 



180 VISIT TO CANTEEBUET. 

conversation. Erasmus, however, afterwards changed his 
opinion of Canossa. He thus writes to a friend : "I offer 
you my warmest congratulations on your possessing the 
friendship of the most distinguished Cardinal, Ludovicus 
Canossa. I made his acquaintance in England, where he 
was employed hy Pope Leo to negotiate a peace between 
the Kings of France and Great Britain. I greatly admired 
his remarkable genius, and formed a strong attachment to 
him. Both when I was in England, and afterwards in his 
letters, he gave me proofs of his favourable regard."* 

Erasmus now prepared to take his departure from Eng- 
land. He could not leave without a heavy heart that little 
band of friends to whom he was bound by a tie of no com- 
mon affection. His grief was shared especially by Colet. 
Erasmus was now almost always with him. They often 
took journeys together. A description of one of those 
journeys occurs in his Colloquy entitled " Peregrinatio 
Keligionis ergo," from which a translation of his ac- 
count of his visit to Walsingham has already been taken. 
This Colloquy is important; as it served to increase the 
anger of the monks against him. The persons who con- 
verse are, as before, Menedemus and Ogygius.t 

Men. — Have you omitted to pay a visit to the shrine of 
St. Thomas of Canterbury 1 

Og. — That is a shrine which of all in the world I was the 
least likely to neglect. No pilgrimage is holier. 

Jfm. — I should be glad, if it does not give you too much 
trouble, to hear from you an account of it. 

Og. — I will ask you, then, to give me your attention. 
That part of England which is opposite to France and Flan- 
ders is called Kent. Canterbury is its principal town. 
There are two monasteries in it, almost close to each other, 

* Eras. Jacobo Tussano, Op. torn. iii. p. 1351, edit. Lugd. 
t Ibid., Op. torn. i. p. 663, edit. Bas. 



VISIT TO CAXTERBURT. 131 

both of tliem belonormsr to the Benedictines. That which 
is called St. Augustine's seems the older of the two f the 
other, which is now called St. Thomas's, seems always to 
have been the seat of an Archbishop, where he lives with a 
few chosen monks, just as at the present day Bishops have 
houses close to the church, but separate from the houses of 
the other canons. . . . The Cathedral church, dedicated to 
St, ■ Thomas, + rises with so much majesty towards heaven, 
that even when seen from afar it strikes religious awe into 
the spectator. By its magnificence it obscures the beauty of 
its neighbour, and quite casts into the shade a place which 
has been very sacred from remote antiquity. It has two 
large towers, which, from a distance, as it were, bid wel- 
come to pilgrims, and send forth very loud peals from bells 
of brass far and wide through the neighbouring country. 
In the entrance to the church, which is at the south, stand 
three figures of armed men in stone, who, with impious 
hands, are slaying a very holy man. Their family names 
are inscribed. They are Tuscus, Fuscus, Berrus.j 
Men. — Why are the wretches so honoured 1 

* Two noble gateways of St. Augustine's Abbey still remain ; St. 
Augustine's, or the north-west gate, built of Caen stone at the close 
of the thirteenth century, on the north side of which is the Almonry 
gate. On the south-west of the precinct is the cemetery gate. In 
1844 Mr. Beresford Hope recovered the site from profane uses, and 
restored the early English guest chapel. Close to it is the Library 
of the Missionary College, incorporated June, 1848. 

t Erasmus has made a mistake as to the name in this description. 
The shrine of St. Thomas was the principal object of devotion. But 
the cathedral was dedicated to Christ, and by that name it is always 
described, 

Z These are not much like the names of the murderers, who were 
four, Reginald Fitzurse, William de Tracy, Hugh de Moreville, and 
Richard Brito. It is supposed that the statues stood in the four 
niches stiU remaining in the doorway of the south porch of the 

cathedral. 

9—2 



132 VISIT TO CANTERBUET. 

Og. — They have, forsooth, the same honour given to them 
which is conferred upon Judas, Pontius Pilate, Caiaphas, 
and the wicked Eoman soldiers, well-carved figures of whom 
you see on gilded altars. The names are given that no one 
in future may be proud to bear them. They are placed pro- 
minently before us, that no courtier may hereafter lay 
hands on our Bishops, or on the possessions of the Church. 
For those three minions, after their crime, were struck 
with madness, and only recovered their senses when 
the aid of the most holy Thomas was implored on their 
behalf. 

Men. — Oh ! the enduring mercy of the martyrs ! 

Og. — When we had entered, a spacious and majestic 
building disclosed itself to our view. To this part any one 
may be admitted. 

Men. — Is there nothing to be seen there 1 

Og. — Nothing but the vast size of the building, and some 
books fixed to pillars, amongst which is the Gospel of Nico- 
demus, together with the tomb of some one whose name I 
do not know.* 

Men. — What is to be seen next? 

Og. — An iron grating bars out admission to that part 
which lies between the extremity of the church and the 
choir, as it is called, but one can see through it. The 
ascent to it is by several steps, a vaulted passage under 
which admits us to the north. There is shown a wooden 
altar of the holy Virgin, of small size, and only remarkable 
as a monument of antiquity, administering a rebuke to the 
extravagant habits of the present age. There the pious 
man is said to have bid farewell to the Virgin when death 

* It was a remarkable proof of the general ignorance of the Scrip- 
tures at this time that this spurious gospel should have been set up 
in the Metropolitical Cathedral. Books were constantly fixed in this 
manner before and since the invention of printing. 



VISIT TO CANTEEBURT. 133 

was at liand/^ On the altar is the point of the s\vord,t 
with which the crown of the head of the very excellent 
Archbishop was cut off, and his brain was pierced, that he 
might be the more quickly dispatched.^ Fall of love to 
the martyr,, we kissed with great veneration its sacred 
rust. Quitting this part of the church we enter the vault 
below. It has its own priests.§ There is first shown to us 
the pierced skull of the martyr. The forehead is left bare 
for us to kiss, but the other part is covered with silver. 
There is also shown a slip of lead engraved with his name 
Thomas Acrensis.|| In the same place, in the dark, hang 
up the hair-shirt, the girdles, and the bandages with which 
the Bishop used to mortify his flesh. The very look struck 

* This was the story told to Erasmus. But iu truth the altar 
was erected after the catastrophe, as is stated by the historian Ger- 
vase. A stone is still pointed out where Becket fell. A small piece 
cut out of it is supposed still to be preserved at Borne. 

t The sword of E. Brito, supposed to have been that which gave 
the fatal blow, was fractured by striking against the pavement. 
The monks kept the point as an objecu of veneration, and a source 
of profit. 

X The part of Becket's head, on which was the tonsure or corona, 
was hewn off by his murderers, and preserved in a setting of silver 
and precious stones, made in 1314, in a part of the cathedral still 
called after him Becket's crown, which was built at the close of the 
12th century. 

§ There are several chantry chapels in it, one of which, founded 
by the Black Prince, in the southern transept, and endowed with 
the manor of Vauxhall at Lambeth, still belonging to the church of 
Canterbury, became the Church of the French Protestant Refugees. 

II His mother is said to have been a Saracen, His birth was sup- 
posed to have taken place in London, butfromhis being called Acrensis, 
it would seem to have been at Acre, in the Holy Land, The chapel in 
Cheapside, London, founded by Becket's sister, and now the Mer- 
cers' Chapel, was generally known by the name of St. Thomas of 
Acre. The inscribed slip of lead was deposited in coffins to identify 
the body in case it should be disturbed. 



134 VISIT TO CANTEEBUEY. 

horror into us. They seemed to upbraid us with our soft 
and effeminate habits." 

Men. — And perhaps the monks also. 

Og. — I cannot say whether you are right or wrong. It 
is no business of mine. We then returned to the choir. 
The treasuries on its northern side were unlocked for 
us. An immense quantity of bones, skulls, chins, hands, 
teeth, fingers, and entire arms was brought out to us, all of 
which we devoutly kissed. There would have been no end 
of it all, if my companion in my pilgrimage, showing 
plainly that he had had enough of it, had not interrupted 
the priest while he v,^as eagerly showing to us these relics. 

Men.— Who is he 1 

Og. — He is an Englishman, and his name is Gratianus 
PuUus.t He is a learned and pious man, but he is not so 
weir affected towards that part of our religion as I could 
wish. 

Men. — He is perhaps a Wickliffite. 

Og. — I do not think so, although he had read his books. 
I do not know how he got hold of them. 

Men. — Bid he offend the priest % 

Og. — An arm was produced, the flesh of which was still 
bloody. He shrunk back from kissing it, and his feelings 
of disgust were very plainly expressed on his countenance. 
Immediately the priest shut up the rest of his relics. Then 
we went to look at the high altar and the ornaments w^hich 

* Gervase, in relating the original interment of the Archbishop, 
thus describes his dress : ' ' And that I may truly relate what I saw 
with my eyes, and handled with my hands, he wore next his skin a 
hair-shirt, then a linen one, over them the black cowl, then the alb in 
which he was consecrated, the tunic also, and dalmatic, chasuble, 
pall, and mitre. He had hair-drawers, with linen ones over woollen 
hose, and sandals." 

t Gratianus PuUus is supposed, with good reason, to be his friend. 
Dean Colet. 



VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 135 

had been lately hidden underneath it, all of them very rich. 
If you had seen the quantity of gold and silver, you would 
have said that Midas and Croesus were poor, when com- 
pared with the possessors of them. 

Men. — Was there no kissing here ? 

Og. — No ; I had feelings of a different kind. 

Men. — What were they 1 

Og. — I sighed and mshed that. I had such relics in my 
own house. 

Men. — That was a sacrilegious wish. 

Og. — I admit it, and I humbly asked pardon from the 
Saint before leaving the church. We were then conducted to 
the sacristy.* How many rich silken vestments were there 
displayed !t What a number of golden candlesticks ! We 
saw in the same place the staff of St. Thomas. It seemed 
a reed covered with silver plate, very light; not remarkable 
for its workmanship; and it did not reach higher than the 
waist. 

Men. — Was there no cross ? 

Og. — I did not see any. His pall was shown, which was 
made of silk, but of a coarse texture. It liad not any gold 
or jewels upon it. There was also the napkin for wiping 
his face, on which were to be seen very plainly the stains of 
blood. We gladly kissed these tokens of the simple habits of 
our forefathers. 

Men. — Are not these shown to every one ? 

Og. — Certainly not, my good friend. 

Men. — How was it, then, that so much confidence was 
placed in you that nothing was concealed from j^ou ? 

* Probably the chapel of St. Andrew. 

+ In the inventory of relics we find that all these vestments were 
carefully preserved till the Reformation. We may form some idea 
of the number of all the relics when we hear that the inventory 
occupies eight folio pages in Dart's "History of the Cathedral." 



136 VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 

Og. — I liad some acquaintance with William Warham, 
the Archbishop, who gave me a letter of introduction. 

Men. — I hear from many that he is a man of remarkable 
courtesy. 

Og. — Xay, rather you would say if you knew him, that 
he is courtesy itself. He has so much learning, so much 
simplicity of character, so much piety, that you would say 
that nothing is wanting to make him a perfect Bishop, We 
were then conducted back to the upper floor ; for behind the 
high altar we ascended again by a flight of steps into another 
church, as it were. There, in a chapel we saw the whole 
figure* of the Saint, set in gold and jewels. Here an unfore- 
seen occurrence almost spoiled my pleasure. 

Men. — I guess what you are going to say. 

Og. — Here my companion, Gratianus, showed great rude- 
ness. He interrupted the attendant priest in the midst of 
a prayer, by saying to him, '' Tell me, my good father, is 
what I hear true, that Thomas, when he was alive, was 
very kind to the poor f The priest assented, and began to 
enumerate his many acts of kindness to them. Then he 
continued ; " I do not think that his feelings towards them 
are changed, excepting perhaps for the better." The priest 
agreed with him. He then said, " When the Saint was so 
liberal to the poor while he was poor himself, and had need 
of money for the supply of his bodily wants, can you sup- 
pose that he would be displeased now when he is rich and 
has need of nothing, if a poor widow who has starving 
children at home, or daughters whose virtue is in danger 
from the want of a dowry, or a husband lying on the bed 
of sickness, and destitute of the means of support, having 

"* The "tota facies," wliich translators have rendered "the whole 
face," was more probably a whole length, than a head. Professor 
Willis thinks so, for he calls it the image of St. Thomas. He sup- 
poses it to have stood in the Corona. 



VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 137 

first asked liis permission, should take a mere trifle from 
tills vast wealth for the support of her family, from one 
who was most willing to give it, either as a free gift or as 
a loan to be repaid T Finding that the priest, who had 
charge of the golden figure, made him no answer, Gratianus 
said in his usual vehement manner, " I am sure that the 
Saint would be glad if, now that he is dead, he relieved by 
his wealth the wants of the poor." The priest, directly he 
heard him, began to knit his brow, to put out his lips, and 
to look at us with the eyes of a Gorgon, and I do not doubt 
that he would have driven us out of the church with very 
violent abuse, if he had not known that we had letters of 
introduction from the Archbishop. I contrived, however, to 
appease his anger by an apology, saying that Gratianus did 
not mean what he said, but was only joking in his usual 
manner, and I at the same time gave him money. 

Men.—l highly commend your piety. I sometimes, how- 
ever, think seriously how it can be said that they have not 
been guilty of a crime who do not set any bounds to them- 
selves, and spend so much money in the erection, adorn- 
ment, and enriching of churches. I admit, in regard to the 
sacred vestments and the vessels of the church, that a pro- 
per respect should be paid to the solemnity of public wor- 
ship. I think, also, that the structure should have a gran- 
deur peculiar to itself. But what is the use of so many 
holy water vessels, so many candlesticks, so many golden 
images ? Why should so much money be spent upon the 
organs, as they call them 1 For we are not satisfied with one 
organ in a church. Is it fitting that so great an ex- 
pense should be incurred for all this musical noise, when in 
the meantime our brothers and sisters and the living temples 
of Christ are perishing from hunger and thirst ? 

Og. — In these matters all pious and wise men wish for 
moderation : but since it is a fault which arises from un- 



138 VISIT TO CANTEEBUET. 

bounded piety, we may well excuse it, especially when we 
think of the opposite conduct of those who despoil the 
churches of their wealth. The money just referred to is 
generally given by kings and great men, and it would be 
much worse spent in gambling or in war. If you take 
away any of this wealth, first of all it is considered an act 
of sacrilege -, then those who usually give, hold their hands ; 
then we are told that we may plunder the churches. We 
must remember too that these men are rather the guardians 
than the owners of all this wealth. I would rather see a 
church remarkable for the magnificence of its sacred furni- 
ture, than like some, which are bare and mean, and resemble 
stables more than churches. 

Men. — But we read of bishops in former days who were 
commended because they sold the sacred vessels, and applied 
the money to the relief of the poor. 

Og. — They are still praised, but we do nothing more than 
praise them. We have not the liberty to imitate them, and 
it would not, I think, be a pleasure to us to do so. 

Men. — lam interrupting you ; I want to hear the end of 
your story. 

Og. — I will now finish in a few words. The Head of all 
these priests then came to us. 

Me7i.— Who "i the Abbot? 

Og. — He has the mitre and income, but he has not the 
name of an Abbot. He is called a Prior, because the Arch- 
bishop is really the Abbot. For in ancient times every 
Archbishop was an Abbot and a monk. 

Men. — I should not object to being called a camel if I 
had the wealth of an Abbot. "'^ 

Og. — He seemed to me a pious and wise man, not unac- 
quainted with the theology of the Scotists. He opened to 

* Thomas Goldworthy was the last Prior of Canterbury. 



VISIT TO CANTERBUET. 13^ 

US a chest in which the remainder of the body of the Saint 

is said to rest. 

. Men. — Did you see the bones ? 

Og. — You are not allowed to do so, and it would not be 
possible to see them without ladders ; but we saw a golden 
shrine covered with a wooden canop}^, which, having been 
raised by ropes, disclosed very valuable treasures. 

Men. — What do you mean ? 

Og. — The gold formed the least valuable part of them.* 
We also saw rare and very large jewels wdiicli sparkled and 
glittered. Some of them were larger than the eggs of a 
goose. Several monks stood very devoutly around it ; all, 
after the lid had been raised, worshipped them. The Prior 
with a white wand touched each jewel, mentioning the 
name in French, its value, and the name of the giver. The 
best had been presented by kings.t 

Men. — He must have had a remarkable memory. 

Og. — You are quite right j but constant practice is a great 
help, for he often does it. Then he brought us back to the 
crypt. The Virgin Mother has her abode there ; but it is 
rather dark, and is quite surrounded with more than one 
iron screen. 

Men. — What is she afraid of? 

Og. — Of nothing, I should think, but thieves. For I never 
saw any place which more abounded in wealth.J 



* The German herald of Charles V. said that it was impossible to 
describe its preciousness from the value of its rings and innumerable 
gems. These were borrowed by Edward III. for his expedition ta 
France. i 

+ Among them were two jewels, given as his ransom by the King 
of France, and worth 10,000 crowns. Louis VII., of France, gave, 
in 1177, the regal diamond of France, which Henry VIII. converted 
into a thumb-ring. 

t When Henry VIIL, in 1538, attacked the Church, from the 
spoils of St, Thomas's shrine alone, two chests were filled, so large 



140 VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 

3Ien. — You say that it is concealed. 

Og. — When lights were brought we saw a more than 
royal spectacle. . . . We were afterwards brought bad: to 
the sacristy. A box was drawn forward there covered witii 
black leather. It was placed on the table and opened ; all 
then bent their knees and worshipped. 

Men. — What was in it ? 

%.— Some linen rags, most of them retaining marks. 
With these, we were told, the Saint wiped his nose, the 
sweat from his face or neck, or the dirt from other parts of his 
body. Again my friend Gratianus was very rude. The Prior, 
knowing that he was an Englishman of high station, kindly 
offered to him one of the rags, thinking that he was making 
him a present with v\diich he would be highly delighted. 
But Gratianus, not at all pleased, touched it with the tips 
of his fingers with a look of great disgust, and contemptu- 
ously put it down, making, at the same time, a sort of 
whistle. For this was his way if he met with anything 
which displeased him. I was very much ashamed of my 
■companion's conduct, and was afraid of the consequences. 
The Prior wisely took no notice of what had happened, and 
having offered us a cup of wine, politely took leave of us. 

We then proceeded towards London Not far from 

Canterbury we came to a narrow, hollow, and steep lane, 
with a high bank on both sides, through which every tra- 
veller must pass.'"^ On the left side of the road is a little 
house for old mendicants.t As soon as they see a horse- 
that eight strong men conld scarcely carry them on their shoulders. 
Nothing of less value than gold was carried away. 

* Harbledown Hill, on which the pilgrims knelt down at the sight 
of the Cathedral, and then rose and shouted. 

t St. Nicholas Lazar House, Harbledown, one mile from the west 
gate of the city. It retains a gate-house and chapel of the 11th 
-century. 



VISIT TO CANTEEBURT. 141 

man approaching, one runs out and sprinkles him with holy 
water, and then offers him the upper leather of a shoe, with 
a brass ring in it, in which there is a glass like a jewel. 
Pilgrims are expected to kiss it, and to give a small piece 
of money. Gratianus rode on my left hand, and was 
nearest to the house. He bore tolerably well the sprinkling 
with water, but when the shoe was held out, he asked the 
man what was meant by it. He said that he was offering 
to him the shoe of St. Thomas. He became very angry, 
and turning to me said, " What, do these idiots want us to 
kiss the shoes of every good man ? Nay, they will ask us 
to kiss their spittle, and their other abominations." I took 
pity on the old man, and consoled him with the present of 
a small piece of money. 

Men. — I think that Gratianus was angry not altogether 
without reason. If shoes and the soles of them are kept as 
an evidence that those to whom they belonged led a frugal 
life, I should have no great fault to find; but it seems to 
me a great piece of impudence to thrust slippers, and shoes, 
and stockings, upon every one to be kissed. If, indeed, 
any one should do it of his own accord, from a very pious 
feeling, I think that he may well be excused.'" 

Og. — To tell you the truth, I think that it is better that 
these things should be left alone ; but my plan is to find 
whatever good I can in those evils which cannot be sud- 
denly corrected 

These questions were not, as Erasmus fondly hoped, to 
find a peaceful solution. This satirical Colloquy, " Pere- 
grinatio Religionis ergo," or " Journey on account of Reli- 
gion," having been published and read over England and 
the rest of Europe, no doubt contributed to prevent the 
fulfilment of his wishes ; for it served to expose in all their 

^ Thus many superstitious and idolatrous actions may be excused. 
This is an indulgence which the sacred Scriptures nowhere concede. 



142 VISIT TO CANTERBTJRT. 

undisguised and naked deformity the superstitions of the 
Ohurch of Eome, and to excite against them the indignation 
which is here so justly expressed hf Dean Colet. In fact, 
his scheme of a peaceful reformation was, as we shall see 
hereafter, a mere chimera. We can have very little doubt 
that the state of things disclosed in this Colloquy, which, it 
appears very plainly from the note on Walsingham as to 
the queries prepared by the visitors sent by Henry VIII., 
that the monarch had read, led to a closer examination of 
matters in the Priory, and to the discovery of that forging 
of relics and feigning of miracles which caused the royal 
order to be issued twenty-five years later, for the public 
burning of the image of the Virgin at Chelsea, and to the 
ridiculous summons issued about the same time by Henry, 
a,t Canterbury, to the dead Archbishop to answer to a charge 
of treason, to the burning of his bones, and to the confisca- 
tion to the king's uses of the brooches, gems, orient pearls, 
chains, and gold which Erasmus describes as unfolded to 
his astonished view. 



HIS PRIDE ON ACCOUNT OP HIS PAME. 143 



CHAPTER VL 

JOURNEY TO BASLE FOR THE PRINTING OF THE NEW TES- 
TAMENT AND ST. JEROME — MISTAKEN ESTIMATE OF POPE 
LEO— REASONS FOR ABANDONING THE IDEA OF SETTLING 
IN ENGLAND — CHARACTER AND OPINIONS OF MORE AND 
COLET. — (A.D. 1514: — 16.) 

The object of Erasmus in taking Ms departure from Eng- 
land was, that he might have his Greek New Testament 
and the works of St. Jerome published at Basle by Froben, 
the printer. In the beginning of July, 1514, we find him 
at Hammes Castle, near Calais, with his friend, Lord Mount- 
joy, from which he wrote to Servatius the letter already 
referred to, containing the reasons for his refusal to comply 
with his request, and return to a monastery.* In this letter 
he informs him that Spain, Italy, Germany, France, Eng- 
land, and Scotland were inviting him to become their guest. 
" There is no Cardinal at Eome," he adds, " who is not will- 
ing to receive me as a brother. . . . This honour I owe not 
to my wealth, which I neither have nor wish for ; nor to 
my ambition, a passion to which I have always been a per- 
fect stranger ; but to my learning, which our countrymen 
ridicule, but the Italians worship. ,.^In England there is not 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 1527, edit. Lugd. 



144 IN- THE HANDS OF THE CUSTOM-HOUSE OFFICERS. 

a Bishop who does not delight in being addressed Ly me, 
who is not anxious to have me as a guest, or to reside in 
his house." Then follows the description of the kindly- 
feelings of the King and Archbishop towards him, which 
has been already given.* He adds, " I must now say a few 
words about my works. I think that you have read the 
Enchiridion, by which not a few admit that they have been 
encouraged to the pursuit of piety. I take no merit to my- 
self ; but I thank Christ, and attribute to Him any good 
which it may have done. . . . For these last two years, 
besides many other things, I have corrected the text of the 
Epistles of St. Jerome. ... By a collation of Greek and 
ancient manuscripts, I have corrected the text of the whole 
of the New Testament, and I have made annotations on 
more than a thousand passages, which will be of use to 
theologians. I have begun Commentaries on St. Paul's 
Epistles, which I will finish as soon as I have published the 
other works ; for it is my purpose to spend my life in the 
pursuit of sacred learning. ... I must now go to Germany 
— that is, to Basle — to publish my lucubrations." 

He wrote the following letter on the same day to his 
friend Ammonius, in which he informs him that he had 
again fallen into the hands of the Custom-house officers :t — 
" I have had a safe passage. We sailed at seven o'clock — 
a most convenient hour. The sea was quite calm ; the wind 
favourable; the sky bright. I suffered, however, greatly 
from anxiety ; for those pirates carried off my baggage, in 
which were my lucubrations, to another vessel. They did 
it with the design of stealing something, if possible ; or at 
all events of extorting from me some coins by selling me 
my property. "When therefore I thought that what had 
cost me the labour of so many years was lost altogether, I 

* See pages 106, 107. 

+ Op, torn, iii, p. 307, edit. Bas. 



GIFTS F2,0M HIS FRIEKDS. 145 

felt as mucli grief as a mother when death has deprived her 
of her children. In all other matters, too, they treat stran- 
gers in such a manner that it is better for them to fall into 
the hands of the Turks. I often wonder that wretches of 
this kind are tolerated by the Kings of England, for they 
cause great annoyance to visitors. They also bring a dis- 
grace upon the whole island, for every one relates in his own 
country the bad treatment he has experienced, and others 
form their idea of the nation from the conduct of these men. 
I do not know whether I have told you that the King him- 
self has dismissed me in the kindest possible manner, and 
that the Bishop of Lincoln* told me that I might certainly 
entertain very good hopes for the future. He did not, how- 
ever, make me any present, nor did I venture to mention 
the matter to him, for I fancied that he would think me im- 
pertinent. The Bishop of Durham gave me on my departure 
six angels, and that, too, of his own accord. The Archbishop 
sought the opportunity of making me a similar present ; the 
Bishop of Eochester treated me like a king. I carry all that 
they gave with me. I wish you to know this, that no one 
may think that I ha,ve made my journey a pretext for raising 
a large sum of money. If fortune should smile upon me, and 
people keep their word, I shall soon return to England." 

I shall not describe minutely the journey from Calais to 
Basle, which he made, as usual, on horseback. ISTear Ghent, 
while he was stooping on one side to speak to his servant, 
his horse shied to the other side at some clothes spread in 
the path to dry. The consequence was that, in endeavour- 
ing to keep his seat, he gave his back a violent wrench, which 
caused him excruciating agony. He arrived with difficulty 
at the inn at Ghent, where he thought that he must soon 
die. But, as he told his friend, Mountjoy, in consequence of 
a vow made to St. Paul that, if he recovered he would finisli 

* Wolsey. 

10 



146 EECEPTIOK ON HIS WAY TO BASLE. 

}iis Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, he found the 
next morning that he was quite well, and was able to pro- 
ceed on his journey.'* He thus showed that even the most 
exalted minds cannot cast off the influences of the super- 
stitions by which they are surrounded. 

We find from his letters that he received everywhere un- 
mistakable proofs of the esteem in which he was held ; that 
at Maintz, as he informed Colet, much was made of him ; 
that at Strasburg he was^entertained by several distin- 
guished men of learning; and that the chief men of Schele- 
stadt paid the same respect to him as if he had been a person 
of the first rank. Having heard that he was coming, they 
sent him a present of wine, and asked him to dine with them 
on the following day. He showed his gratitude by cele- 
brating the praises of the city in a short poem.t : He then 
went to Basle, accompanied by John Sapidus, the pupil of 
his friend Wimphelingus, formerly Professor of Divinity at 
Heidelberg. As he did not wish to be annoyed by the 
notice of strangers, he told Sapidus to conceal his name, 
adding that he wanted only a fewfvselect friends at Basle. 
He thus writes to his friend Wimphelingus : — " At first, in 
consequence of what I said to him, I was introduced to 
those only whom I most wished to see. Here is Beatus 
Hhenanus, with whose prudence and retiring disposition, as 
well as judgment in matters of learning, I am greatly de- 
lighted. I much enjoy the daily intercourse that I have 
with him. Here is Gerard Lystrius, a young man well 
acquainted with the art_of medicine, and with the Latin, 
Greek, and Hebrew languages, who is quite devoted to me. 
Here is also Bruno Amerbach, a man of great learning, who 
also knows the same three languages. I gave John Froben a 
letter from Erasmus, adding that I was very intimate indeed 

* Op. torn. iii. ep. 182, edit. Lugd. 

t "Encomium Slestadii." Op. tom. i. p. 1223, edit. Lugd. 



i 



INTRODUCTION TO FEOBEN. 147 

with him, that I had been appointed by him to make 
arrangements for the pubHcation of his books, and that he 
was to consider whatever I did as done by Erasmus himself. 
I then said that I was so hke Erasmus, that he who had seen 
the one had seen the other. He now, to his very great 
amusement, discovered the trick which had been played upon 
him. Froben's father-in-law then paid all that we owed at 
the inn, and received us with our horses and baggage into 
his house."''' 

The person just mentioned was John Amerbach, who, 
with his three sons and Froben, superintended the printing- 
press at Basle. The first, who was now considerably ad- 
vanced in life, was unable to take an active part in the busi- 
ness; but "the last four, with Beatus Ehenanus for a cor- 
rector of the press, from a pure love of the work, devoted all 
their energies to the publication of the lucubrations of Eras- 
mus. The latter was so much interrupted by visits from 
learned men at Basle, and by invitations to dinner, that at 
last he was obliged to decline society altogether. He says, 
in a letter to his friend. Lord Mountjoy, written at the end 
of August, 'Hhat Germany had received him with so much 
honour, that he was almost put to the blush." He adds, " that 
now shut up, he was superintending the printing of his trifles, 
engaged with no less zeal in the matter in question than the 
Emperor in his war with Venice, "t 

Erasmus had been continually urged by his friends in 
Italy, especially by Cardinal Grimanus — his introduction to 
whom has been described in a former chapter — to spend a 
short time in that country. Instead, however, of doing so he 
left Basle, and arrived in England in the spring of 1515. He 
wrote to the Cardinal, after his arrival, the following apology : J 

* Letter to "Wimplielingus. Jortin, vol. ii. p. 457. 
t Op. torn, iii. p. 285, edit. Bas. 
$ Ibid;, p. 65. 

10—2 



148 LETTEE TO CARDHSTAIi GEIMAWUS, 

" You must not suppose that in not coming to your Excel- 
lency after my first and last meeting, as you had directed 
and I promised, I intended to put a slight upon you. Your 
own refinement and courteous manners are the cause of my 
apparent neglect of you. You will ask for an explanation 
of so strange a statement. I will give it to you plainly, and 
as a G-erman ought to do — frankly. At the time you invited 
me, it was my intention to pay a visit to Britain. Ta 
this land I was bound by old ties of affection.'; I was drawn to 
it also by the very large promises of powerful friends, as 
well as by the very kindly feelings of the most prosperous of 
kings towards me. I had adopted this island as my country, 
and had chosen it as the home of my old age. I was invited 
— nay, urged — to come to it by many letters, in which a 
promise of mountains of gold was made to me. From these 
promises I had formed the idea of an amount of wealth, such 
as I should think could scarcely be washed down by ten 
Pactoli. I was afraid therefore that if I returned to your 
Highness I should be led to change my purpose. For when, 
by one conversation with you, you so captivated me, what 
would you have done if I had held frequent and closer inter- 
course with you ? For your great amiability, your persuasive 
eloquence, your admirable learning, the assurance of having 
your friendly advice on which I could fully rely, would move 
even a heart of iron. ... I found, therefore, the love for your 
city, which I had with difficulty shaken off, again slowly in- 
creasing. It was such that if I had not before left Eome sud- 
denly, I should never have left it at all. I tore myself away 
therefore, that I might not afterwards be prevented from 
going, and flew to England, rather than proceeded on my 
journey to it .... I cannot fail to have a strong desire for 
Eome, when I think of the numerous advantages connected 
with that city. First of all, it is the most celebrated city on 
the face of the earth ; it is the light of the world, and the high 



LETTER TO CAEDINAL ST. GEOEGE. 149 

stage on which the eyes of men are fixed. I should enjoy, 
too, there, perfect freedom, the most dehghtful of all bless- 
ings. I should have the great advantage of many libraries 
rich in literary wealth, as well as of an acquaintance with 
many men of learning, and of most agreeable conversations 
with them j I should be surrounded by so many monuments 
of antiquity, and I should find so many lights of the world 
gathered together in one place." . . . He concludes his let- 
ter by telling him that Kome should see him the next win- 
ter if God, the King, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
should allow him to leave England. 

The following is an extract from his letter to Cardinal St. 
■George, written at the same time'": — 

" I have never, in the midst of the tumult of war, 
•discontinued my literary labours. I have published, among 
many other things, my work on the ' Adages,' which I have 
carefully corrected, and so enlarged that I have added to it 
the fourth part of a volume. The whole of the works of 
St. Jerome are being printed. I should rather say that he 
is having a second birth given to him ; for he was so cor- 
rupted and mutilated, that he does not seem so much re- 
stored, as now published for the first time. A great work is 
being printed, intended to be, as it was before, in ten volumes; 
and with so much care, and at so great an expense, that I 
will venture to afhrm that for the lasfc twenty years no work 
as expensive, or on which an equal amount of care has been 
bestowed, has issued from that printiug-press. . . . Last 
year I stayed eight months at Basle for this very purpose. 
I have been during that time at a very great expense. In 
the next autumn I will certainly revisit Italy, that I may 
examine your very rich libraries. . . . I wish to be guided 
by your advice as to whom I should dedicate this work. I 
owe much to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and he is very 
deserving of the honour of having his name inscribed on my 
* Op. torn, iii.p. 70, edit. Bas. 



150 LETTER TO LEO X. 

page. ... I see also that the' dedication to Leo will be a 
great recommendation to my work, and that it will be a 
great honour to him. . . .•" 

The following is part of a fulsome letter to Pope Leo, 
written shortly after this time :* '' I see everywhere, I hear 
everywhere throughout Christendom, that the highest and 
the lowest congratulate themselves on having such a Prince. 
All indeed most justly praise you, but none have better- 
reason for doing so than those who are influenced by a love 
of true piety and polite learning j for the noble and im- 
mortal family of the Medici, to whom the world is indebted 
for Leo, has always been the nurse of men remarkable for 
their virtues and for their literary excellence. To your 
great natural genius has been added the advantage of a 
very good education ; you have also had for your instructor, 
Politian, a man remarkable for his refinement, who was far 
better able than any one else to draw out the abilities with 
which you are happily gifted." 

He afterwards gave him an account of his literary 
labours. 

" I have worked so hard to give a new life to St. Jerome, 
that I have almost killed myself. I may, without the least 
hesitation, solemnly declare that it has cost Jerome less 
trouble to write his own works than it has cost me to re- 
store and illustrate them. The work has been carried on 
for some time with great ardour. Jerome will have his 
second birth at the celebrated city of Basle, in Switzerland, 
in the printing establishment of Froben. There is not a 
more careful one anywhere, nor one from which a greater 
number of good books issue, especially those which relate 
to sacred literature. This is not the work of one person, 
nor has one man money enough for it ; several very learned 
men have long worked very hard at it. The three brothers 
* Op. torn, iii, p. 63, edit. Bas. 



THE AMERBACHS, AND FEOBEN, THE PRINTEES. 151 

Amerbach have given me most assistance. They, chiefly, 
have carried it on, having shared the expense and trouble 
with Froben. This .family has been well prepared by the 
fates themselves for the work of giving a new life to St. 
Jerome. Their father, a most excellent man, has taken 
care to have his sons instructed in Greek, Hebrew, and 
Latin. He, in the decline of life, has left this work as a 
kind of inheritance to his children, devoting whatever 
money he has to the undertaking. And these excellent 
young men discharge diligently the duties entrusted to 
them by their father. But your Holiness will say, * What 
is all this to me f I answer that there is no one more 
highly commended, no one more celebrated than Jerome ; 
but yet I see very plainly how much honour, how much 
weight, your name will bring to him. The glory of Leo is 
very great, and yet there will be, if 1 am not mistaken, no 
little addition to it if so rare, so vast, so celebrated a work, 
as it were born again, should go forth to the world under 
your auspices. And it seems to be very proper that all the 
branches of learning which are the offspring of peace, 
should flourish again by means of that Pontiff who has' 
procured for the world literary leisure, and peace, the 
foster-mother of learning." 

This letter was doubtless written by Erasmus for the pur- 
pose of ingratiating himself with the Pope. The latter 
sent to him a very courteous answer;* but only gave 
him the assurance that if he should have the o^Dportunity, 
he would extend to him his bounty hereafter. Erasmus 
did not dedicate St. Jerome to him, probably because he 
was disgusted with him on account of the coldness of this 
answer ; but, as he had at first intended, to Archbishop War- 
ham. Leo gave a plain proof soon after this time that he 
did not wish Erasmus to take up his abode at Rome, for he 
'^ Op. torn, iii/p. 72, edit. Bas. 



152 HIS HIGH OPINION OF LEO X. 

wrote a letter to Henry VIII., from which we gather that 
it was his desire that the King should give him preferment 
rather than himself. He spoke in the highest terms of 
him as a man of learning, and endeavoured to interest Henry 
in his favour by informing him that Erasmus had, in a re- 
cent letter, highly commended him for his magnanimity 
and his numerous virtues. =^^ 

After having read the condemnation of the Popes as a 
class in the " Praise of Folly," we shall perhaps be surprised 
at the exalted opinion of Leo which Erasmus expresses at 
the beginning of his letter, and shall imagine that he is 
here addressing him in the language of unmeaning compli- 
ment. But Erasmus deluded himself with the idea that he 
had at the time in question good reason for thus extolling 
him. He had, as we have seen, lashed most severely Alex- 
ander VI. and Julius II. in his "Praise of Folly;" the one, 
because his character was stained with all those vices which 
disgrace human nature, and place a man on a level with the 
beasts that perish : the other, because he was constantly 
.flinging wide his standard to the winds, and plunging his 
country into war, with a view simply to the gratification 
of his inordinate ambition. But Leo seemed to be influ- 
enced by motives and animated by feelings of a totally op- 
posite character. " Let Julius," he said, in v/riting on the 
proverb, ' Dulcebeilum inexpertis,'t ''have his magnificent 
triumphs. It is not for the like of me to say how far they 
become the Head of the Christian Church. Leo will gain 
far greater glory by the restoration of peace, than Julius by 
the bravery which he has shown in the numerous wars he 
haiS carried on throughout the world, or has brought to a 
successful termination." He seemed, in fact, to Erasmus, 
to have risen on Christendom with the benignant influence 

■"" Op, torn, iii, p. 73, edit. Bas. 
+ Op. torn. ii. p. 970, edit. Lngd. 



BEVIVAL OF PAGANISM. 153 

of a vernal sun after a long and dreary niglit of storms ; 
while civilization, knowledge, and humanity revived with 
returning day. Under his reign, a golden age seemed to 
have begun in Europe. Leo was eminently the advocate of 
a peaceful policy. He had stilled the tempest of war ; he 
had brought mighty kings, who were before bitter enemies 
to one another, into fraternal union. He had induced 
Henry YIH. to lay down his arms j he had persuaded Louis, 
King of France, to allow him to arbitrate between hijn and 
his enemies. He had also restored to their country many 
Italian princes who had been driven into exile.* This 
Pope was likewise the bitter opponent of the scholastic 
theology. He was also the great patron of polite learning. 
''Under such a prince," wrote Erasmus, "as at a given 
signal, all in the world who are renowned for their learning, 
or remarkable for their piety, are hastening to Eome as to a 
theatre.''^ 

But Erasmus was doomed to disappointment. He did, 
indeed, declare his belief that " the authority of the Scrip- 
tures will not suffer, if corrupt readings be removed from 
them, corrections be made in the text, and the right sense 
be given to them ;" but still he could not refrain from ex- 
pressing his fears lest, " under the pretext of the revival of 
ancient literature. Paganism should endeavour to raise its 
head, for there are amongst Christians those vdio ackno-w- 
ledge Christ only by name, but breathe the spirit of the 
heathen world."J He has combated this evil, as we shall 
see hereafter, in the Preface to his '•' K"ovum Listrumentum.^' 
His fears were fully realized. The character of that period 
has been well described by Lord Macaulay. " The more re- 
spectable members of the Court of Eome were utterly unfit 

■* Letter to Leo. Op, torn. iii. p. 64, edit. Bas. 

t Letter to Car. Grimanus. Ibid., p. 69. 

J Epist. Gwolfgango Fabricio Capitoni. Op. torn. iii. p. 10, edit. Bas, 



154 LOED maoaulat's desceiption of the age. 

to be ministers of religion. They were men [like Leo X. ; 
men who with the Latinity of the Augustan age, had 
acquired its atheistical and scoffing spirit. Their years 
glided by in a soft dream of sensual and intellectual volup- 
tuousness. Choice cookery, delicious wines, lovely women, 
hounds, falcons, horses, nev/ly-discovered manuscripts of the 
classics, sonnets, and burlesque romances in the sweetest 
Tuscan, just as licentious as a fine sense of the graceful 
would permit, plate from the hand of Benvenuto, designs 
for palaces by Michael Angelo, frescoes by Raphael, busts, 
mosaics, and gems just dug up from among the ruins of 
ancient temples and villas, these things were the delight 
and even the serious business of their lives. The highest 
praise of the chiefs of the Church was that they were good 
judges of Latin composition, of paintings, and statues ; but 
their severest studies had a Pagan character, and they were 
suspected of laughing in- secret at the sacraments which 
they administered, and of believing no more of the Gospel 
than of the Morgante Maggiore."* Erasmus has expressed 
his astonishment at the blasphemies of these men of learn- 
ing. They sought to prove out of Pliny that there is no ' 
difference between the souls of men and those of brutes.t 
Many professed a belief in the philosophy of Plato and 
Aristotle, while they denied the fundamental articles of the 
Christian faith. Some even dared to call in question the 
great doctrine of the soul's immortality. 

I have little to add to Lord Macaulay's eloquent lan- 
guage. Every syllable of it may be applied to Leo X. The 
careful student of history knows well that, even as a man 
of learning, he did not deserve the eulogium which Erasmus 
here pronounces upon him. He may indeed have been a 
patron of learned men ; but, as he was excessively indo- 

* Macaulay's Essay on Ranke's "History of the Popes." 
f Burigny, "Life of Erasmus," vol. i. p. 139. 



MISTAKEIT ESTIMATE OF POPE LEO. 155 

lent, and mucli given to luxurious indulgence, lie cannot 
really have made much progress in a knowledge of polite 
literature. The adulation of Erasmus and others may- 
have served to delude him with the idea that he had that 
taste and knowledge which they ascribed to him. Though 
he did not possess the warlike ambition of Julius, or exhibit 
the savage qualities and coarse debauchery of Borgia, yet he 
was, on account of his scoffincj spirit and his vices, as unfit 
for the pastoral office as these men, or the worst of his pre- 
decessors. He was a voluptuary to the end of his days. 
He impaired his faculties and shortened his life by his ex- 
cesses. Multitudes had learnt to despise his pretensions to 
the sacred character with which he was invested. Erasmus 
was deluding himself when he supposed that Leo would 
be the instrument of regenerating human society. A peace- 
ful reformation, to be gradually accomplished by the pro- 
gress of learning, was in fact a mere chimera. Literature 
never can be the means of enabling men to cast off the for- 
malism and superstition of ages, and of bringing them into 
the glorious liberty wherewith Christ maketh His people 
free. 

Erasmus seems to have left England on his return to 
Easle before the end of the summer of 1515. He spent a 
short time here in the autumn of 1516, and in the spring of 
1517 ; this was his last visit to this country. We shall be 
surprised that this should have been the case when we 
remember that he fully intended to make England the home 
of his old age. But we find that afterwards he could not 
carry that intention into effect. At first, indeed, the war- 
like schemes of Henry YIII. were the cause of his departure 
from our shores. The liberality of his patrons became less 
on account of the war taxes which they had to pay. The 
House of Commons had too readily granted Henry a sub- 
sidy to enable him to arrest Louis XII. of France in his 



156 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS FROM ENGLAND. 

victorious career. The consequence was that his friends in 
this country had neither leisure nor incHnation to attend to 
the literary schemes of Erasmus. He said in his letter to 
Cardinal Grimanus, " Though my good fortune in England 
has been greater than I deserved, yet it has not been alto- 
gether such as I expected, nor as my friends had promised 
me."''" These promises probably existed chiefly in his own 
imagination. Again, writing to Cardinal St. George, he 
said, " I had formed in my mind the idea of streams flow- 
ing to me producing more gold than Pactolus or Tagus. 
But the storm of war very soon came and carried off the 
King himself, the father of the golden age, and my other 
friends from the muses. The trumpet of Julian had so 
roused the whole world to arms."t 

Those warlike operations continued for some time. I 
need not describe them minutely. Suffice it to observe that 
Henry VIII., after having in his first expedition against 
France failed disgracefully, and after having in his second 
taken only two unimportant towns, had concluded a treaty 
with Louis, and had given in marriage to him his sister, the 
Princess Mary, who, according to contract, ought to have 
been long since married to Henry's former ally, Prince 
Charles. Then, after having undertaken to assist Louis in 
regaining the province of Navarre, which he had lately 
aided his ally Ferdinand in conquering, he entered once 
more after the death of the former into a secret alliance 
with Ferdinand^ the object of which was to humble the 
pride of his successor, Francis I. 

Erasmus gave the plainest proof that though a student, he 
was alive to passing events, by condemning in the strongest 
language the conduct of these monarchs. In the new edition 
of the " Adages," which, as I have said, Froben was publish- 
ing, the following severe words are to be found : " Kings 
'* Op. torn. iii. p. 68, edit. Bas. t Ibid., p. 71. 



COK"DEMK"ATIOX OF THE KINGS OF HIS TIME. 157 

who are scarcely men are called 'divine / they are 'invincible,' 
though they have never left the battle-field without being 
conquered j ' serene,' though they have turned the world 
upside down in a tumult of wars ; ' illustrious,' though 
they grovel in profoundest ignorance of everything noble ; 
' Catholic,' though they follow anything rather than 
Christ."* jSTo doubt the inherent baseness of this conduct, 
the political dishonesty which it displayed, were the princi- 
pal reasons for the stern rebuke here administered. But 
the considerations mentioned above gave additional bit- 
terness to it. He was obliged to become an exile from the 
land of his adoption. He had lost the means of support 
which he expected. The attempts of Erasmus to propitiate 
Henry VIII., who, as we have seen, was very favourably 
disposed towards him, by dedications, in one of which he 
reminded him of their early intimacy, and subsequently by 
liis vindication of the ling's authorship of the famous 
answer to Luther, failed of the wished-for success. Henry 
pivbably felt more deeply the loss of Erasmus when his 
country was deprived of the fame which she might have 
acquired by his residence in it. Perhaps, also, the treat- 
ment which he received from Wolsey was one of his reasons 
for not taking up his abode permanently in England. Eras- 
mus may have become acquainted with him at Oxford,, 
where he was bursar of Masrdalen CoUesre. He had dedi- 
cated to him not only a piece of Plutarch relating to the 
benefit which we may gain from our enemies, but also his 
Paraphrase on the Epistles of St. Peter. From the latter I 
extract the following passage, which seems to show his 
exalted opinion of the Cardinal as a patron of learning. 
"Besides many men eminent for their erudition, there are 
now growing up in Britain under your patronage several 

* See the proverb "The beetle pursues the eagle." Op. torn. ii. 
p. 869, edit. Lugd. 



158 HIS TREATMENT BY WOLSET. 

young men of very great promise, who will hereafter become 
more distinguished even than the former, if the gentle gale 
of your favour shall breathe upon them."''' Wolsey actually 
•offered to Erasmus a canonry of Tournay, of which See he 
was bishop. Though he had no great wish for preferment 
■of this kind, he was eager to hold it, because his friend, 
Lord Mountjoy, was governor of the city. But when the 
instrument for his installation had been signed by the Car- 
dinal, and when the canons were congratulating themselves 
on the certainty of having this distinguished man as a 
member of their body, he gave it to another person. The 
Cardinal assigned as his reason for this disappointment that 
he intended to give him better preferment. But he never 
fulfilled that promise. He gave him, indeed, a small pen- 
sion out of the church of York, which was very far from 
being an adequate reward of his merits, and he promised 
him a bishopric. But Erasmus justly regarded that pro- 
mise as implying an intention to evade the payment of a 
part of what was due to him.t He afterwards spoke in a 
very bitter tone of the Cardinal, and of his false promises. 
" I have dedicated," he wrote, '' to the Cardinal of York 
my work on Plutarch, and yet I have not become a farthing 
richer by his munificence."! He had told him in his letters 
that he had fixed the anchor of his happiness upon him, and 
that he would hasten^ his return, if, in the meantime, he 
would be generous enough to provide him with the means 
of refreshing mind and body, wearied with hard work.§ 
But he soon ceased to depend upon him. 

* Eras. Parapli. torn. ii. p. G6Q, edit. Bas, 1534, 

t Knight's " Life of Erasmus," p. 376. 

J Erasmus Catalogus Operum ab ipso conscriptus, tomo primo 
proeiixus, edit. Bas. 

§ Erasmi Epist. Tho. Card. Ebor. Op. tom. iii. p. 1811, edit. 
Lugd. 



HIS OPIXIOX OF IVOLSET. 159 

"We must not suppose, liowever, that Erasmus] was guilty 
of ser\-ile adulation either of Wolsey or of his royal master. 
On the contrary, his letters to both are expressed in lan- 
guage of famiharity, as well as of respect, and show very 
jDlainly that he considers that by his correspondence he is 
conferring an honour liiwii them, as well as receiving it from 
them. Xo doubt the change observable in the way in which 
he spoke of ^Volsey is to be attributed to the unbounded 
arrogance which he displayed some time before his fall. 
He said in his letters that he was not ci^il nor easy of ac- 
cess to his inferiors ; lie pitied his friends for the hardships 
which he imposed upon them; and added that he was feared 
by all, but beloved by few or none.* Probably the sense 
of unjust treatment hj him from which he smarted, imparted 
additional bitterness to the lanouas-e which he used re^'ard- 
ing him. Erasmus, however, did not reflect that he had 
himself stood in the way of his own advancement. The 
Papal throne had been for many years the great object of 
Wolseys ambition. But Erasmus had endeavoured to shake 
it to its very foundation. If he had really wished to secure 
the goodwill of the great Cardinal, he should not have 
laughed to scorn, with good reason .indeed, but still not 
wisely for his own interests, the claims of the schoolmen, 
of whose philosophy Wolsey was the warm advocate, to be 
the theological dictators of Christendom; he should not 
have made himself a heretic in his estimation by condemn- 
ing the corrupt practices of the Church of Eome in language 
which seemed to imply that he considered her the Apoca- 
lyptic " mother of harlots and abominations of the earth." 

Thus, then, it seems not unlikely that Wolsey, by with- 
holding from Erasmus, for the reasons just given, the royal 
patronage of which he was, in fact, the dispenser, having 
leally more power over it than the I^ing himself, may have 
* Knight's "Life of Erasmus/' p. 378. 



160 HIS FEIENDSHIP FOR DEAN COLET. 

been partly the cause of his unwillingness and inability to 
reside permanently in England. He had reason, as he said 
in a letter to a friend, to be sorry that he had come to thi& 
country, and that he had refused better offers in foreign 
lands.* 

Erasmus would be deeply grieved that he was compelled 
to depart from England, because personal intercourse with 
the friends whom he so dearly loved could now exist only 
in the memory of days gone by. I have already fully 
described the nature of the union between himself and Dean 
Colet. .He it was who taught him to lift up his voice 
against the scholastic philosophy, to adopt the common 
sense historical method of interpreting the Scriptures, and 
to draw his lessons directly from St. Paul and the Gospels. 
In a letter written in August, 1514, prefixed to a collection 
of different pieces, including the Institutes of a Christian 
Man, which, having been written by Colet for the use of 
his school in English prose_, had been turned into Latin 
verse by Erasmus, he spoke of him as " a man than whom, 
in my opinion, the kingdom of England has not another 
more pious, or who more truly knows Christ."t He was 
bound to him also by the love of polite letters, and by the 
desire to improve education. In the letter already referred 
to, written to Servatius in the same year, he described him 
as a man much esteemed by every one, who united the 
greatest learning with admirable piety. He added, "He, 
as all know, has so great an affection for me, that there is 
no one with whom he likes to live better than with me."J 

* Epist. Ad. Principi Veriano, op. torn. iii. p. 122, edit. Lugd. 
Quoties poenitet me fortimam quam ante trienniiim mihi Lovanii 
ofFerebas, non amplexum fuisse. 

t Seebohm's '*' Oxford Reformers," p. 300. Stray pieces, iiichidiug 
"The Institutes of a Christian Man," written by Colet. 

X Op. tom. iii. p. 1527, edit. Lugd. 



SIR THOMAS SIORE. IGl 

How deep was his sorrow wlien, in 1519, two years after 
Iiis last visit to Engiaud, he lieard of liis death, the 
following extracts from letters to his friends bear full testi- 
mony. " true theologian 1 O wonderful preacher of 
evangelical doctrine ! with what earnest zesii did he drink 
in the philosophy of Christ ! ■ How eagerly did he imbibe the 
spirit and feelings of St. Paul ! How did the purity of his 
whole life correspond to his heavenly doctrine ?" Again, 
writing to Bishop Fisher r' "1 have written this weeping for 
Colet's death. ... I know it is all right ^\dth him who, 
escaped from this evil and wretched world, is in present 
enjoyment of that Christ whom he loved so well when alive. 
I cannot help mourning in the public name the loss of so 
rare an example of Christian piety, so remarka-ble a preacher 
of Christian truth."t 

Erasmus would also feel deeply his separation from 
Thomas More, whose gentle and endearing character had 
exercised a fascinatmg influence over him, as, indeed, over 
all mth whom he held social and domestic intercourse. 
His genial playfulness, and his love of real wit and sportive 
raillery, formed a bond of union between him and one who, 
as we see from his " Praise of Folly," and his other works, 
was verj skilful in the use of those weapons. More also 
greatly admired the boundless learning of Erasmus. The 
following extract from a letter from the latter to Hutten, 
written in 1519, two years after his last visit to England, 
•will give the best idea of his character at that time. J " If 
you want a perfect pattern of real friendship, you must look 
for it in More. He has so much affability, and suavity of 
manner, that there is no one, however morose may be 

* Letter to Liipset, Seebolim's translation, "Oxford Reformers," 
p. 504. 

t Seebolim's translation, ibid. 

J Erasmus Ubico Hutteno. Op. tom. iii. p. 472, edit. Lugd. 

11 



162 SIE THOMAS MOEB. 

his disposition, wliom he does not make cheerful 

From his early boyhood he has been so accustomed to jok- 
ing, that it seems natural to him ; but yet he never descends 
to buffoonery, and is very careful not to hurt anybody's 
feelings by it There is nothing in the world, how- 
ever serious it may be, from vrhich he does not extract 
pleasantry. If he has intercourse with wise and learned 
men, he is delighted with their genius j if with unlearned 

and foolish men, he enjoys their folly No one is less 

swayed by the opinion of the world, and no one is more 
remarkable for his common sense. A great pleasure it is to 
him to consider the form, the disposition, the affections of 
different animals. He has every kind of bird in his house, 
and every rare animal, as the ape, the fox, the ferret, and 
the weasel From early life he has loved polite litera- 
ture. When he was a young man, he, applied himself to 
the Greek language and to philosophical studies. His 
father, who was in other respects a wise and prudent 
man, was so far from assisting him in them, that when he 
began them he took away his pecuniary allowance, and 
almost disowned him, because he seemed unwilling to fol- 
low his own legal studies. Although, and with reason, his 
mind revolted from them, yet he so applied himself to them 
that suitors chose him as their advocate to conduct their 
causes, and his income was larger than that of any lawyer. 
He was also diligent in the study of volumes having refer- 
ence to the orthodox faith. When he was quite a young 
man he gave public lectures on St. Augustine's Civitas Dei 
to a crowded audience, and priests and old men were not 
ashamed to be instructed in sacred things by a young laj- 
man. In the meantime he applied his mind altogether to 
the duties of religion, to watchings, fastings, and prayers. 
Nothing but the wish to marry prevented him from devot- 



moee's ^ipe axd faylily. 163 

ins: himself altos-ether to this kind of life. He wished 
rather to be a chaste husbaud than an unholy priest." 

Erasmus then goes on to tell his friend that More had 
married a gentle girl, of good family, brought up in the 
retirement of the country with her parents and sisters, 
whom he had endeavoured to educate according to his own 
tastes ; that he had instructed her in literature and every 
kind of music, in the fond hope that she w^ould be his com- 
panion through life ; that she had been carried off by an 
early death, leaving three daughters and a sou, Margaret, 
Alice, Cicely, and John ; that a few months after her death. 
More, with a view to the care of his family, rather than to 
any pleasure which he derived from the marriage, had taken 
for his partner one who was neither beautiful nor a maiden, 
as he used jokingly to tell her ; that from regard to JMore's 
musical tastes, she had learned to sing and play on the 
harp, and that the voice of contention was never heard in 
this happy household. 

He afterwards writes thus : " He has been more than 
once sent out on a foreign embassy. "When His most Serene 
Highness, King Henry YIII., found that he had showed 
great diplomatic skilly he was not satisfied till he had 
dragged him into his service. Yes, dragged, I say, for no 
one ever tried harder to be admitted to court, than he tried 
to keep out of it. When this very excellent King deter-, 
mined to surround himself with learned, wise, discreet, and 
upright men, he invited a great many to come to him, but 
More, first of all, ^Yiih whom he is so intimate, that he 
never allows him to leave him. If he wishes to discuss 
serious matters, he goes to him at once for his opinion ; if 
on the other hand he wishes to have the diversion of agree- 
able stories, he finds him a very pleasant companion. . . 
!N"o one has ever induced him to accept a present. He is 
altogether without pride. In the midst of these weighty 

11—2 



IG-i more's studies. 

affairs he remembers liis old friends, and returns to liis be- 
loved literature. He employs all the influence arising 
from his high office, and from his connection with a very- 
powerful King, in assisting his friends, and in promoting the 
best interests of the state. Some he assists with money ; 
others, by his influence ; others, by giving them a recom- 
mendation. If there are any whom he cannot assist in any 
other way, he gives them good advice ; he never sends away 
any without having comforted them. You would say 
that More was the public patron of all poor men. . . ." 
He again makes mention of his studies, which he de- 
scribes as the principal bond of union between them. He 
'informs Hutten that in the early part of his life he was 
very fond of poetry ; that afterwards, by careful practice in 
•every kind of Writing, he endeavoured to make his prose 
style more agreeable ; that he delighted much in declama- 
tion ; and that, at More's suggestion, as we have already 
seen, in order that he might ascertain whether he had 
improved in this art, they both wrote a full answer to 
Lucian's arguments in favour of tyrannicide. He thus 
continues: "He published 'Utopia' for the purpose of 
showing the causes of the decline of kingdoms. He had, 
however, Britain chiefly in view, the condition of which he 
has examined, and knows very well. He wrote the second 
book first in his leisure moments ; afterwards as opportunity 
offered, he added the first, which has a direct bearing on 

the times You will not find a person who is 

more successful in anything of this description ; for a happy 
mode of expression aids the efforts of his genius. He is 
Tery acute in disputations, so that he often comes into the 
theological arena, and does the work of our greatest divines. 
John Colet, a man of shrewdness and accurate judgment, says 
of him in conversation, that there is but one genius in Eng- 
land, and that his name is Thomas More, though, indeed. 



MOEe's "UTOPIA.'^ 165 

there are many distinguislied for their learning. He is 
a man of real piety, very remote from all superstition, 
and has his fixed hours when he prays to God, not in 
a formal manner, but in Ian2;ua2;e which comes from the 
heart. He converses in such a manner with his friends 
respecting the v/orld to come, that you see at once that he 
is conversing on a favourite topic, and that he has a hope 
full of immortality. Such is More even at court." . . . 
The " Utopia " here mentioned was the greatest of More's 
works. Erasmus correctly stated his object in A^T?iting 
it. It was to show the contrast between its imaginary com- 
monwealth and the governments existing in Europe, and 
especially in England, at the time of its publication. Thus, 
while the other nations in those distant regions, their neigh- 
bours, are constantly breaking the most solemn treaties, the 
Utopians never enter into a treaty at all, thinking that 
words are altogether unnecessary when any one is deter- 
mined to disregard the natural tie existing between man 
and man. Again, unlike almost every nation^ they regard 
war with a religious abhorrence, deeming that they cover 
themselves with infamy by needlessly engaging- in it. 
More is evidently, in the whole of the passage just referred 
to, with the most refined irony, administering a sharp re- 
buke to the Pope, Henry VIII., and the other monarchs of 
Europe ; for he says that they religiously observe their 
treaties. He attributes that observance entirely to the 
good example set them by the Popes, and to the severity 
with which they prosecuted all who were guilty of perfidy. 
Now, as we have seen, the very contrary was the case. 
They constantly violated their engagements, and without 
any justifying pretext, plunged their countries into bloody 
wars, because they were inflamed with a thirst for military 
glory, Erasmus had already, as we have seen, in the 
*' Praise of Folly," made the Popes and the European mon- 



16G MOEE's "UTOPIA." 

arclis tlie objects of liis satire. In tlie ^' Christian Prince," 
"vvliicli was published at the same time with the " Utopia," 
and was designed for the special benefit of Prince Charles 
of Castile and Arragon, afterwards the Emperor Charles V., 
he pursues' the same line of argument as his friend.* He 
shows that every prince ought to aim at the promotion of 
the best interests of the people committed to his charge ; 
that he ought even to retire from a war undertaken in self- 
defence if he find that it is prejudicial to religion, that it 
leads to the violation of justice, to the shedding of torrents 
of blood, and to a lavish expenditure ; that the great object 
of a wise prince will be to reduce taxation as much as pos- 
sible, to tax luxuries rather than necessaries, and to take 
especial care not to tax the poor heavily ; and to aim rather 
at the prevention than at the punishment of crime. 

More shows a similar regard for the interests of the poor 
in his " Utopia." When he Vvdshes to condemn Henry VIH. 
and the English parliament because they subjected the poor 
to very heavy taxation on account of the war, and because, 
notwithstanding the great demand for labour, they reduced 
their wages as much as possible, in order that the rich 
might not pay their proper proportion of war-taxes, — when 
further he wishes to censure tliem because they did not at- 
tempt to remove the ignorance which prevailed throughout 
the country, he represents all the Utopians as being in a 
prosperous condition, and every child in the community as 
properly educated. With the same enlightened regard for 
the interests of the poor, when he wished to indicate a rem- 
edy for the diseases which robbed the inhabitants of the 
crowded metropolis of their beauty, their glory, and their 
strength, and cut them off by thousands and tens of thou- 
sands out of the land of the living, he represents the streets 

* Op. torn. iv. p. 433, edit. Bas. 



MOSE'S "UTOPIA." 167 

of Utopia as wide, and free Iroiii those nuisances wliicli al- 
ways have been found to be a fruitful source of pestilence ; 
the houses and rooms as high and spacious, with many win- 
dows, so that the inhabitants are not inconveniently crowded 
together, and there might be, when necessary, a current of ■ 
air through them ; while near them are waterworks, from 
which they may obtain a plentiful supply of fresh water, 
and behind them is a trim and well- stocked garden. Thus, 
then, he anticipated the nineteenth century in the sugges- 
tions of those educational and sanitary arrangements wiiicli 
are no longer Utopian in the sense of the word as it has 
been applied since More's day to the impossible schemes of 
brain-sick enthusiasts, but seem lil^ely to some extent 
to be carried out, and to improve the moral and temporal 
condition of the people of England. 

We may in some degree gather More's religious views 
from the '^ Utopia," We shall find that, as we shall see here- 
after, they are different from those wdiich he adopted in the 
later period of his life. When indeed he represents all the 
sects as gathered together in the solemn gloom of a temple in 
Utopia, with hearts free from anger and hatred, to join in a 
service from which everything was carefully excluded which 
was opposed to the prejudices or distasteful to the inclina- 
tions of the worshippers, conducted by a priest arrayed in 
vestments wrought of birds' plumage, we must not suppose 
that he imagines comprehension to that extent to be a pos- 
sibility, but that he is simply condemning the endless di- 
visions which interrupted the harmony of European Chris- 
tians. We find a plain expression of his opinions on other 
points. He speaks in derision of the abbots as '• those holy 
men who thought it not enough to live at their own ease, 
and to do no good tothe public, but who resolved todo it 



168 EELIGIOUS VIEWS OP COLET, ERASMUS, AND MORE. 

liarm instead of good."'^ He accuses the preachers of that age 
of '' corrnpting|the Christian doctrine ; for they, observing 
that men of the world did not frame their lives according 
to the rules which Christ has given, have fitted His doctrine^ 
as if it had been a leaden rule, to their lives, that in some 
way they might agree with one another."t He reckons 
^' the Friars as vagabonds, who ought to be taken up and 
put under restraint fX he represents the Utopians as " al- 
lowing their priests to marry j"§ he exalts the dignity of 
the priesthood j1| he banishes images from their churches jIT 
thus showing very plainly his opinion on that subject ; he 
informs us that the Utopians offered not divine honours to 
any but God alone ;"''''*' he gives it as one of their maxims 
that no man ought to be punished for his religion jtt and he 
exalts " a solid virtue far above all rigorous severities,'^! t 
which were the most remarkable characteristic of the piety 
of the age in which he lived. 

We see then generally what were More's views when he 
wrote the " Utopia" in 1515 and 1516. On all these points 
he agreed with Erasmus and Colet. He agreed with them 
also in their opposition to the Schoolmen, to the formalism 
of the monks and others, and in their determination to 
grasp at the spirit of religion, and to make it an actuating, 
energizing'Jprinciple. On these points they agreed with 
Luther. They seemed indeed to be drawing near to him. 
But really, as we shall see hereafter, there was a great dif- 
ference between them. They also exerted every effort to 
promote a political, as well as a religious reformation. Now 

-"■ "Utopia." Edit. Bas. 1563, p. 21. The summary of liis re- 
ligious views here given is extracted from BiTrnet*s "History of the 
Heformation," edit. Lond. 1715. Supplement, p. 56, 

+ " Utopia." Edit. Bas. 1563, p. 56. t Ibid. p. 37. 

§ Ibid. p. 114. il Ibid. p. 186. "ll Ibid. p. 192. 

** Ibid. p. 173. ft Ibid. p. 191. XX Ibid. p. 130. 



IXDIGXATIOX AGAIXST HEXEY Till. 1G9 

they were to be separated from one another. Colet was 
soon to be gathered to his fathers. Erasmus was only once 
more to visit England. If he and More met hereafter, they 
can only have done so when the latter went on an em- 
bassy to the Continent. The endearing sympathies so long 
existing between them, and the associations of tender in- 
terest which had " grown with their growth, and strength- 
ened with their strength," conld now only be cherished and 
maintained throngh the imperfect medium of epistolary cor- 
respondence. But still we doubt not that they could all at 
the present time, under the pain occasioned by separation, 
derive comfort from the thought that at present they had 
never swerved from their views ; and that they had en- 
deavoured to promote the onward march of spiritual, moral, 
and pohtical improvement. 

"We have thus seen the feelings with which Erasmus con- 
templated his separation from his beloved friends, and some 
of his reasons for coming to the conclusion that England 
could not now be " the home of his old ao;e." At the time 
of his departure from England in 1515, he was, as I have 
stated, full of indignation on account of the warlike 
schemes of Henry VIII. and his brother monarchs. He 
felt that, to use his own words, " that revival of philo- 
sophical studies, which was designed to lead to an acquaint- 
ance with the simple and pure Christianity .of the Bible,"'-' 
had been interrupted by them. His friend and coadjutor. 
Dean Colet, still indeed, notwithstanding the persevering 
efforts of his enemies to create in the King's mind a preju- 
dice against him, continued to lift up his voice against the 
vices of the clergy, and to unfold the meaning of the truths 
of Holy Scripture in heart-stirring discourses delivered from 
the pulpit of St. Paul's Cathedral. But, when the warlike 
passions of the monarch were roused, he might become the 
* D'Aubigue's "History of the Eeformatiou," p. lOS. 



170 INVITED TO maOLDSTADT. 

advocate of bigotry, and might silence tliat fearless chani' 
pion of the truth. Henry and Wolsey had indeed at last 
offered Erasmus a house and a pension of 600 florins to in- 
duce him to settle in England; but he at length decided not to 
accept the proposal. He seems to have been afraid of them ; 
for in a letter to More he says that he feared to come any 
more to England, lest he should be obliged to do something 
inconsistent with his freedom.* Thus it was that he was grad- 
ually estranged from the land of our fathers ; and that he was 
not interred, as he might perhapshave been, in the consecrated 
mould of that Abbey, that national Yalhalla, where the re- 
mains of many English worthies, in successive generations, 
have mouldered into dust. 

At the end of August, 1515, he was able to announce to 
Cardinal Wolsey that he was again at Basle, superintending 
the printing of " St. Jerome" and of the " New Testament."t 
Wiiile he was here he received a pressing invitation from 
Ernest, Duke of Bavaria, to take up his abode at his Uni- 
versity of Ingoldstadt, accompanied with the offer of a 
handsome salary and rich livings. He at once declined the 
proposal. His post of counsellor to the emperor obliged 
liim now occasionally to be at the Flemish Court. While 
he was at Brussels in the autumn of 1516, he was informed 
■that Charles had conferred on him a bishopric in Sicily, 
and that on finding that it was not amongst those reserved 
for the Crown, he had written to the Pope, asking him to 
give it to him.l He was glad, however, to hear nothing 
more of it. Indeed Sicily would have been nothing more than 
a place of exile to him j as he would have been unable, in 
that distant spot, to hold the same intercourse as heretofore 

* Angliae mottis timeo et servitutem liorreo. Eras. ep. Moro, 
*' Knight's Life," p. 184. 
t Op. torn. iii. p. 302, edit. Bas. 
t Eras. Ammonio, torn. iii. p. 137, edit. Liigd. 



THE NEW TESTAMENT AND ST. JEROME PUBLISHED. 171 

with men of learning. He liad, some months previous]}^, 
on March 7th, 1516, informed Urbanus Eegins that the 
" New Testament " was published, and the last colophon put 
to " St. Jerome."* But these justly celebrated works demand 
a separate chapter. 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 589, edit, Bas. 



172 THE USE 0? CLASSICAL STUDIES. 



CH AFTER, VII. 

HIS "GREEK TESTAMENT." — (A.D. 1516). 

Erasmus had been preparing liimself during many years 
for his work on the New Testament. In comparison with 
that preparation, every occupation, however, in the judg- 
ment of the world, important, or however exalted, appeared 
to him to sink into utter insignificance. The *'new learn- 
ing " was considered by him as important only so far as it 
was subservient to the attainment of an improved know- 
ledge of Holy Scripture, Christian antiquity, and the lives 
of the Fathers. He has shown very plainly the use of 
cLassical studies. The following passage from the Enchi- 
ridion will explain his views on this subject i"^ " I would 
not for my part condemn any one for amusing himself with 
the works of the poets or of the heathen philosophers, pro- 
vided he just takes them up in moderation, and at the 
proper age, and snatches at them, as it were, on his passage, 
but does not linger upon them, and grow old close to the 
rocks of the sirens. For St. Basil invites to these studies 
those young men whom he is preparing to lead the life of 
Christians. Our Augustine also invites his friend Licentius 
to enjoy the society of the Muses. Jerome is not sorry to 
be along with his beloved captive. Cyprian also is com- 
Encliiridion." Op. torn. v. p. 8, edit. Bas. 



^- a 



HIS DEVOTION TO THE STUDY OF GREEK. 173 

mended because he enriched the temple of the Lord with 
the spoils of Egypt. You must take care, however, that 
you do not, along with a knowledge of the literature, ac- 
quire the character of the ancient heathen world. You 
will find in it much which prepares you for leading a good 
life. A certain writer very properly reminds us that Moses 
did not despise the advice of his father-in-law, Jethro. 
This learning forms and strengthens the genius of boys, 
^nd prepares them in a wonderful manner for the knowledge 
of Holy Scripture. ... It would be better, however, as I 
have said, to engage in the study of heathen literature with 
moderation^ with caution, and at the same time v/ith plea- 
sure, not too before you have attained a suitable age. You 
should occupy towards it the position rather of a wayfaring 
man, than of one who lives in a fixed abode. Lastly, — 
and this is a most important consideration,— all this learn- 
ing should have a direct reference to Christ." 

We have seen that he had been endeavouring to gain 
that knowledge of the Greek language without which he 
could not expect to be able to explain the New Testament. 
He wrote to Colet, eleven years before the time of his life, 
■at which we have now arrived, to the following effect. 
After having informed him as I have already stated,* that 
he had been struggling to devote himself to the study of 
sacred literature, and that he had been prevented by the 
want of a better knowledge of Greek from continuing his 
work on St. Paul's Epistles, he continues : " For nearly 
these three years past, I have given my mind altogether to 
Greek literature ; and I do not think that my labour has 
been Iost."t He had, by this unremitting application, be- 
come the best grammarian and critic of his time. He had 
long seen, as I have said, that the Vulgate was obscure 

* See page 53. 

+ Op. torn. iii. p. 851, edit. Bas. 



174 HIS COTs-TEOVEEST WITH LEE ON 1 JOHN" V. 7, 8. 

and fall of inaccuracies ; and therefore it was that he de- 
termined to publish the Christian Scriptures in their ori- 
ginal tongue, along with a translation of them into Latin 
from the Greek. He was the first to undertake this work.''' 
He consulted all the manuscripts which he could discover; 
he carefully read the works of the Fathers and the Greek 
Commentators, marking down from them the various read- 
ings ; that he might give the Greek text as correctly as 
possible. The Latin translation is printed side by side 
with it, with Annotations. We may mention as a remark- 
able proof of his sagacity and diligence, that he was the 
first to discover that the words in 1 John v. 7, 8, "In heaven, 
the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost, and these 
three are one. And there are three that bear witness in 
earth," are not genuine, and that the passage should stand 
thus : " For there are three that bear record, the Spirit, 
and the water, and the blood ; and these three agree in 
one." Erasmus had, however, pledged himself in his con- 
troversy with Lee, to insert the words if they existed in 
one Greek manuscript. A Codex Britannicus, written pro- 
■ bably under Lee's direction, was at length found which 
contained them. Then Erasmus, for the sake of peace, 
published the words in the third edition. His translations 
from Greek are wanting in accuracy, because he lived in an 
age in which there were no dictionaries, and no good edi- 
tions of the Greek authors. We are quite willing, too, to 
admit that as we might have expected,. the Greek text, 
having been brought out when the study of Greek had only 
just commenced in Europe, is very imperfect, and "will not 
stand the test of modern criticism. Still we may venture 
to affirm that his notes contain many exact philological re- 
marks, founded on a knowledge of the Greek language, of 

* The Complutensian Polyglott, by Cardinal Ximenes, was not 
published till 1522. 



HIS " PAEACLESIS." 175 

the style of the Scriptures, and of the doctrine of the 
Fathers ; and that though he has been surpassed by many 
men inferior to him in a,bihty and industry, who lived at a 
time when critical knowledge was very generallj^ cultivated, 
yet he must have the merit given to him of having been 
the pioneer in that work of criticism which has shed a 
bright liglit on many parts of the records of heavenly 
truth. 

Erasmus must now explain his own object. The follow- 
ing is a translation of a portion of the '' Paraclesis," or " Ex- 
hortation to the study of Christian philosophy," which was 
prefixed to the Novum Instrumentum. It is perhajDS the 
most important part of the work.'-' "First," he says, "I 
am sorry to be obliged to make a complaint not altogether 
new, but still too just, and never more so than at the pre- 
sent time, when men are seeking knowledge with so much 
eagerness, — that this philosophy of Christ is the only one 
which is ridiculed by some, and neglected by the ma- 
jority. But in all the other branches of learning which 
human industry has produced, there is nothing so hidden 
and abstruse, that the sagacious intellect of man has not 
fully examined it ; no difficulty so great that hard labour 
has not overcome it. How then is it that this is the only 
philosophy which is not studied with ecjual earnestness, at 
least, by those who make a profession of Christianity I 
Platonists, Pythagoreans, Academics, Stoics, Cynics, Peri- 
patetics, Epicureans, have quite mastered the tenets of 
their own sects, have them firmly fixed in their memory,, 
are ready to fi.ght for them, nay, to die rather than desert 
the standard of their leader. Why do not we show much 
more zeal in the service of Christ, our Leader and Kins: 'i 
Who would not think it very disgraceful for one who pro- 
fesses his belief in the philosophy of Aristotle, to be igno- 
* Op. tom.v. p. 116, edit. Bas. 



176 HIS " PAEACLESIS." 

rant of tlie opinions of tliat celebrated man on the cause of 
thunder, or on the origin of matter, subjects, a knowledge 
or ignorance of which cannot add to our happiness or 
misery. But we who are in so many ways instructed in the 
doctrines of Christ, do not account it a disgrace to be igno- 
rant of what will certainly lead us to eternal happiness. 
But why should I use argument to show their folly, when 
it is a very plain proof of madness to wish to compare 
Christ with Zeno and Aristotle; His doctrine with their very 
unimportant precepts V'" Let them attach as much import- 
ance as they please to the founders of their sects. Our 
Teacher is the only One Who has descended from heaven ; 
He alone, as He is Eternal Wisdom itself, can give us cer- 
tain knowledge ; He alone can instruct us in the things 
which pertain to our salvation, because He alone is the 
Author of it ; He alone has practised whatever He taught ; 
He alone can fulfil His promises. If any thing is brought 
to us from the land of the Chaldeans or from Egypt^ we 
have some difficulty in understanding it because it comes 
from a foreign country ; and often we lose our time in an 
anxious, laborious^ and useless endeavour to comprehend 
the dreams of an insignificant man, not to say an impostor. 
How then is it that the minds of Christians are not in- 
flamed with a desire for this knowledge, when they know 
very well that this learning has come not from Egypt or 
^yria, but from heaven itself 1 This philosophy is as well- 
suited to the highest as the lowest Nay, the farther you 
advance in it, the more are you elevated hy its majesty. 
It excludes no age, no sex, no condition of life. The sun 
is not more common to all than the doctrine of Christ. It 
does not repel any but those who refuse it themselves. For 

* He is here plainly referring to those mentioned above, who at 
•this time professed a belief in the ancient heathen philosox^hy, and 
scoffed a.t the Christian faith. 



HIS '■ PARACLESIS." 177 

I differ altogetlier from, those who are unwilling that the 
Scriptures should be translated into the vulgar tongue, and 
should be read by the unlearned, as if Christ had taught 
such mysterious doctrine that it could scarcely be under- 
stood even by a few theologians, or as if ignorance were 
the best safeguard of the Christian religion. It is, perhaps, 
better to conceal the mysteries of kings ; but Christ 
wishes His mysteries to be published as widely as possible. 
I wish even the most ignorant woman to read the Gospels, 
and the Epistles of St. Paul. I wish that they were trans- 
lated into all languages, so that they might be read and 
understood, not only by the Scotch and Irish, but even by 
the Turks and the Saracens. I greatly wish that the hus- 
bandman should sing some of the verses at his "plough-tail, 
that the weaver should sing them while^throvdng his shut- 
tle, that the traveller should beguile a tedious journey with 
the stories contained in them." He thus concludes this 
treatise : — 

"Let us, then, all thirst for this knowledge; let us em- 
brace these books ; let us be constantly engaged in the 
study of them; let us give our minds to them; let us, 
since all reading should end in practice, be transformed into 

the spirit of what we read If any pretend to 

show us the footprints of Christ, how devoutly we fall down 
and adore them ! Why do we not rather worship His living 
and breathing image in these books ? If any offer to 
show us Christ's robe, to v,^hat part of the world are we 
not ready to run to kiss it ? But if the whole of His ward- 
robe were exhibited, joii would find nothing which repre- 
sents Christ more clearly and truly than the writings of the 
Evangelists. From love to Christ we adorn with jewels and 
gold His image of wood and stone. Why do we not rather 
decorate with gold and jewels, or even with more valuable 
ornaments, those books which bring Christ so much more 

12 



178 HIS "EATIO VEE^ THEOLOGLE." 

vividly before us than any image? That, indeed, if it bear 
any resemblance at all to Him, only expresses His bodily 
likeness ; these exhibit to us the living image of His most 
holy mind, and bring back to us Christ Himself, speaking, 
healing, dying, rising again. In a word, they set Christ so 
plainly before us, that we could not see Him better if we 
were to see Him with our bodily eyes." 

The following extracts from his " Ratio Yerse Theologise " 
show us the spirit and manner in which we ought to study 
the Scriptures. Some of these observations on the right 
method of theological study were originally added to the first 
edition of the ^' Novum Instrumentum," or '• Testamentum," 
as he afterwards called it. When the second was published, 
in the beginning of 1519, he enlarged this part of his work. 
It was also published separately under the title just given. '^ 

" In speaking of the learning which we must possess in 
order that we may well understand the Scriptures, I have 
no hesitation in saying that we must master the Latin, 
Greek, and Hebrew languages. . . . You must not, 
jnj good reader, be deterred from the work by the difficulty 
of it. If you are determined to learn, if you have a proper 
teacher, you will learn these three languages with less 
trouble than men take every day in learning one half-formed 
language, which is a wretched babble, and. which they cannot 
master, partly from the want of proper instructors, partly 
from their ignorance. It is impossible for you to understand 
the Scriptures if you are ignorant of the language in which 
they are written. Some idiomsv cannot be so translated inta 
another language, as to convey the same meaning as in the 
original. Some small words, again, are untranslatable, as 
St. Jerome constantly ' complain s.t ... If a man 
should be gifted with genius, and should be likely to be 

-=^ Op. torn. V. p. 63, edit. Bas. f Ibid,, p. 65. 



HIS "katio yee.^ theologi^." 179 

distinoruislied as a theolo^rian, I think tliat lie should be 
trained, as Augustine says, with moderation, with caution, 
and in a manner suitable to his age, in more elegant learn- 
ing. He should possess a knowledge of ditilectics, rhetoric, 
arithmetic, music, astronom}^ He should be acquainted 
with natural objects, with animals, trees, jewels, especially 
those connected with the places mentioned in Scripture ; for 
if we understand the geography of these countries, we fol- 
low with our minds the course of the history, and with 
great pleasure to ourselves are carried along, so that we 
seem to see everything, not to read of it. Thus, our read- 
ing makes a much deeper impression on our minds. If we 
learn from history, not the situation only, but also the 
origin, the manners, the customs, the worship, the character 
of the people to whom the events spoken of occurred, or to 
whom the Apostles wrote their letters, it is astonishing how 
much light is shed on what we read, how much vital energy 
is given to that which before seemed so sluggish and life- 
less when the names of everything were unknown to us ; 
when making a bold guess, or consulting very bad diction- 
aries, we mistook a tree for a quadruped, a jewel for a fish, 
a harper for a river, a town for a shrub, a star for a 
bii'd."* 

He afterwards refers to the importance of explaining 
the Scriptures according to their historical sense. He is 
here plainly condemning the Schoolmen, who, by drawing 
away verses from the context, and extracting from them vari- 
ous meanings, had caused the Bible to cease to be a record 
of real events, or of the lives of individuals. After giving 
an example from Origen of the manner in which the Scrip- 
tures are to be read, he thus proceeds : " These things are 
explained in a copious and elegant manner by Origen, I do 
not'know whether with greater pleasure or profit to the 

* Op. torn. Y. pp. QQ, 67. 

12—2 



180 HIS "EATIO VEE^ THEOLOGI^." 

reader. He gives only the historical sense, and applies the 
same method to the books of Scripture which Donatus 
applied to the comedies of Terence, when he explained the 
meaning of the author." . . .* 

He then proceeds to speak of the great superiority of the 
Fathers to these new interpreters of Scripture. " If any one 
will compare those old theologians, Origen, Basil, Chrysos- 
tom, Jerome, with these modern theologians, he will see in 
them a river of gold, while in the latter he sees only scanty 
rivulets, not very pure, and not corresponding to the foun- 
tain from which they have flowed. In the one he will hear 
the thunder of the oracles of eternal truth ; in the other only 
the Commentaries of men which, the more closely they are 
examined, appear to bear the greater resemblance to fugitive 
dreams. In the one a building rises, resting on the solid 
foundation of Holy Scripture; in the other a machine is 
erected, at once empty and vast, which stands on the shallow 
subtleties and false glosses of mere mortals. In the one you 
will range as it were over very beautiful gardens, with 
which you will be greatly delighted and satisfied ; in the 
other you will Avander among barren bushes by which your 
flesh will be torn. In the one everything is full of majesty ; 
in the other nothing is splendid, but, on the contrary, 
everything is mean, and unworthy of the dignity of 
theology."t 

But though Erasmus greatly valued the Fathers, he did 
not attach an undue importance to human authority. One 
of his objects was to undermine the authority of those 
*' irrefragable " doctors, to whose dogmas men were required 
to yield an unqualified assent. Another was to convince 
those of their error who, as we have seen, had preferred the 
philosophy of Zeno and Aristotle to the philosophy of Christ; 
who had dared to call Christianity a cunningly devised 

'' Op. torn. V. p. 68. I Ibid,, p. 69. 



HIS "EATIO YEE^ THEOLOGL^." 181 

fable, and eternity a dream. He saw very plainly tliat tins 
cold scepticism was the reaction from the blind trust which 
they were required to repose in men such as Julius II. and 
others, who by their manifest disregard of the precepts of 
Scripture denied the Lord who bought them and the Sa- 
viour who redeemed them at the price of His most precious 
.blood. These men were not consequently in a state of mind 
in which they were likely to be reclaimed from the error of 
their ways by a reference to the opinions of men. We need 
not be surprised, therefore, to find that, with both these 
objects in view, he should be rather inclined to lead men 
away from human interpretations of the truths of the Bible. 
Accordingly, he afterwards represents the Fathers "as men, 
mistaken in -some things, ignorant of others. At times," he 
continues, " they were careless, and even surrendered some 
points for the sake of vanquishing the heretics with whose 
disputes the world was then agitated."* His object, in 
fact, seems to have been rather to lead his readers to drink 
large draughts from those pure and sparkling fountains of 
eternal truth which are unfolded in the Scriptures to our 
astonished and delighted view. 

AVe must now show briefly how, according to his own 
rule, he made the Scriptures speak for themselves ; how he 
made Christianity rest rather upon her own " internal evi- 
dence than upon the authority of the " irrefragable " doctors 
of the Church. He shows the wonderful agreement between 
the life and the teaching of Christ. " No lie is so skilfully 
contrived as to agree in all respects with itself. Now every 
part of His doctrine agrees with itself and with His life, and 
is agreeable also to nature. He taught innocence ; He Him- 
self so lived, that not even hired witnesses, after trying in 
various ways, could fina any charge which could with the 
least probability be brou gilt against Him. He taught gen- 
* Op. torn. Y. p. 112, edit. Bas. 



182 HIS "EATIO VEE^ THEOLOGLE." 

tleness ; and was Himself led as a lamb to the slaughter. 
He taught poverty, and we read that He never possessed, 
nor pretended that he possessed, anytlnng. He dissuaded 
men from ambition and pride, and He washed His disciples' 
feet. He taught that this was the way to true glory and 
immortality ; He Himself, by the ignominy of the cross, 
obtained a name which is above every name ; and while He 
did not seek an earthly kingdom, gained all power in heaven 
and earth. You will perhaps find in the books of Plato and 
Seneca what is not contrary to the teaching of Christ j you 
will find in the life of Socrates some things which agree with 
the life of Christ ; but this wide range, and this universal 
harmony of things agreeing between themselves, you will 
find in Christ alone."* 

He ends his treatise in the following manner : — " How 
sad it is to see a divine of eighty years old knowing nothing 
but mere sophisms 1 I would rather be a pious divine with 
Chrysostom, than invincible with Scotus. I would ask, has 
one heathen been converted to the Christian faith, or has 
one heretic been changed by their subtleties 1 If anybody 
wishes to be properly instructed rather in the duties of 
piety than in the art of disputation, let him at once 
go to the fountain; let him be conversant with those 
writers who have drunk directly from the fountain-head. 
That theologian will be invincible enough who yields 
to no vice, no evil desires, even if he should be beaten 
in an angry disputation. He is a very great " doctor '"' who 
purely preaches Christ. If they think it disgraceful not 
to know what Scotus teaches, it is still more so not to know 
what Christ teaches. If it is unbecoming in a theologian 
not to have mastered the opinions of Durandus, it is still 

* Op. torn. V. p. 77, edit. Bas. See for similar instances pages 
78, 79, 80, 81, and 82. 



"OSJECTOP THE IsTOVUM IISrSTSUMENTUM." 183 

more so not to have made himself acquainted with those of 
St. PauL A theologian has his name from the divine oracles, 
not from human opinions."* 

AVe gather from the extracts already given, that the great 
■object of Erasmus in publishing his edition of the New 
Testament, was to bring before the world an accurate 
record of the life and teaching of Christ. He has given ex- 
pression to his views and feelings on this subject in the 
following passage in the same '^ Ratio Verae Theologize :" — 
"*' Since the great object of the teaching of Christ is to bring 
•us to lead a holy life^ we should examine carefully the 
Sacred Volume, that we may iiiid in His example a rule for 
our guidance in all the circumstances of our lives ; especially 
the Gospels, from which a knowledge of our duties is mainly 
■derived. We must observe, therefore, that Jhrist Himself 
acted in a different manner towards different people; tov/ards 
His parents, towards His disciples, towards the proud Phari- 
sees, towards those who asked Him questions to entangle 
Him in His talk, towards the simple people, towards the 
afflicted, towards His own countrymen, towards strangers, 
towards magistrates. We should understand also what 
reasons He gave to His followers for their treatment of their 
relations and friends, of the deserving and those who re- 
ceived or rejected the grace of the Gospel, of persecutors, of 
the Jews, of the Gentiles, of the weak, erring, or incorri- 
gible brother, of impious judges, of the flock committed to 
their charge, and of many other classes of persons with whom 
they are likely any day to have intercourse. "t He thought 
that mistranslations, or errors of any kind, were like clouds 
which obscured the brightness of the Sun of Righteousness. 
He wished that these should, as far as possible, be removed, in 
order that all who opened the Sacred Volume for light, holi- 

* Op. torn. V. p. 116, edit. Bas. + Ibid., p. 18. 



184 OBJECT OF THE " I'TOVUM I]S"STEUMENTUM." 

ness, blessing, and comfort, might be able to rejoice in His life- 
giving and invigorating beams. He showed, by publishing ''St. 
Jerome" at the same time with his "New Testament," that he 
valued human interpreters of the records of heavenly truth. 
He complains most justly, in the address to Warham at the 
beginning, of the little care which past ages had bestowed in 
preserving the works of the ancient Christians. "I despise 
not," he says afterwards, "the simple and well-meaning 
piety of the vulgar, but I am really surprised at tlie perverse 
judgment of the multitude. We kiss the old shoes and dirty 
handkerchiefs of the Saints, and we neglect their books, which 
are their more holy and valuable relics. We lock up their 
shirts and clothes in cabinets adorned with jewels ; but as to 
their writings, with which they took so much pains, we 
abandon them to mouldiness and vermin."* But still he 
felt, as I have shown, that after all they were imper- 
fect helps, and that their works must be read with discrimi- 
nation and judgment. He valued a knowledge of "the 
history, the origin, the manners, the customs, the worship, 
the character of the people to whom the events spoken of 
occurred, or to whom the apostles wrote their letters,'^ 
chiefly because 'it enabled him to bring Christ, as He i& 
revealed to us in the New Testament Scriptures, more dis- 
tinctly and vividly before him. He wished thus to be en- 
abled to approach as near as possible to Christ, that he 
might catch the reflection of the brightness of His character. 
Above all, he wished the world around him to be conformed to 
Christ in the inner man — to drink deep into His Spirit — to 
be in truth so one with Christ, as to judge by the same 
standard, and to appreciate at the same value, and to cherish 
the same feelings towards every object in earth and heaven, 
every interest both in time and eternity. Thus he hoped 

* Jortiu's "Life of Erasmus," vol. i. x^. S4, 



OPPOSITIOI^ TO EKASMUS. 185 

tliat when those referred to_, who had practically dis- 
carded Christianity as a rule of life, studied the Saviour's 
character, a surpassing loveliness would appear investing 
their own ; that they would, like the New Jerusalem, be 
encircled within and without with a pure and holy light, 
a glory not of earth ; and that they would be surrounded 
with an atmosphere breathing all the sanctity and sweet- 
ness, all the purity and peace, of the heavenly world. 

We find that this " New Testament " stirred up more op- 
position against Erasmus than any work which he had yet 
written. The Schoolmen opposed it because they held the 
absolute inspiration of every letter of the Latin Yulgate ; 
and because they absurdly fancied that Erasmus was cor- 
recting the Holy Ghost w^hen he published an amended 
translation of the New Testament from the Greek originaL 
These divines, like many who have gone before and suc- 
ceeded them, exerted every effort to suppress what they 
could not confute, judging that if this work were generally 
read, their own credit would be greatly endangered. Writ- 
ing to his friend, Boville, at Cambridge, he mentions a 
report which had reached him that '"a decree had been 
issued at one of the colleg;es that no one should brino- that 
book w^ithin its bounds on horses, in ships, in waggons, or 
by means of porters.' ... '0 heaven! Dearth!' they 
say, 'Erasmus is correcting the Gospels,' Whereas, we 
might much more justly say of themselves, ' the sacrilegious 
wretches, they have corrupted the Gospels !' Are they afraid 
that the young men should be called away from studies which 
they ought to unlearn? why do they not look into the 
matter more carefully ? Nearly thirty years ago nothing- 
was learnt at Cambridge but the little logical treatise of 
Alexander, those antiquated lessons from Aristotle, and the 
questions of Scotus. In the progress of time, useful studies 



186 HIS DEFENCE AGAINST HIS ENEMIES. 

were introduced ; Mathematics, a new, or rather a renewed, 
Aristotle, and a knovv^ ledge of the Greek language. Many 
other authors were added, whose names even I cannot remem- 
ber. What, I ask, is consequently the condition of your 
University 1 It has become so flourishing, that it may vie 
with the best University of the present age. . . . Are 
they displeased because they will hereafter read more care- 
fully the Gospels and the writings of the Apostles; and would 
-they rather have the whole of their time spent on these 
-frivolous subtleties ?" He adds, " These men ought to be 
called back to the fountain-head."* 

We find that the monks and Schoolmen throughout 
Europe very generally opposed the " Novum Instrumentum." 
The divines at Louvain exclaimed very bitterly against it. 
The following short extract from a letter to Ammonius, in 
which he defends himiself against their charges, may be inter- 
esting to us now, as learned men are still exposed to the 
same calumnies : " There are none," he says, "who bark at 
me more furiously than those who never saw even the out- 
side of my book. Try the experiment on any of them and 
you shall find that I speak the truth. When you meet with 
one of these brawlers, let him rave on at my New Testa- 
ment till he has made himself hoarse and out of breath. 
Then ask him gently whether he has read it. If he has the 
impudence to say yes, urge him to produce one passage that 
deserves to be blamed. You will find that he cannot. Con- 
sider now whether this be the behaviour of a Cliristian, or 
suitable to the profession of a monk, to blacken before the 
populace a man's reputation, which they cannot restore 
to him, even if they try to do so, and to rail at things of which 
they confess themselves to be ignorant, never considering 
the declaration of St. Paul, that slanderers shall not inherit 
the kingdom of heaven. Of all the vile ways of defaming a 

* Op. torn. iii. p. SO, edit. Bas. 



TEE WOEK MOPvE PEAISED THAX CEXSUEED. 187 

man, none is more villanous than to accuse liim of heresy ; 
and yet to this they have recourse ujDon the slightest provo- 
cation."* 

But this work was, as he informs us, more praised than 
it was censured. The learned of all countries in Europe 
united in extolling it. He says to his friend Boville, " I 
look to Christ for my chief reward ; but if I cannot obtain 
the approbation of all, I will console myself with the reflec- 
tion that wise men almost ever3^vv^here are satisfied with the 
book, and I hope that what pleases the best will soon meet 
with general approval."t Golet wrote to him a letter in wliich 
he expressed his unbounded admiration of the work j and 
Archbishop Warham informed him that '•' he had shown it to 
some of his brother-bishops and to professors of theology, 
and that with one accord the}* declared that the work amply 
repaid him for the trouble .wdiich he had bestowed upon 
it. "J The first edition had so rapid a sale that he was 
very soon busy in revising it, and preparing a second edi- 
tion. It was published about two years after the first, and 
was dedicated, like it, to Pope Leo, who was now induced 
to issue a brief stamping authority upon it. The two 
together consisted of 3300 folio copies. § He endeavoured 
also to correct the numerous errors, some of them typogra- 
phical, while a few were more serious, which his enemies 
alleged as their pretext for assailing him. These errors may 
be excused on account of the haste with which the work was 
completed. Only five or six months were occupied in the 
printing and editing of it. When his work was so well 
received by the wise and good throughout Europe, he felt 

* Jortia's "Life of Erasmus," vol. i. p. 140. 
+ Op. torn. iii. p. SO, edit. Bas. t Ibid., p. 76. 

§ The third edition appeared in 1522, the fourth in 1527, and the 
fifth in 1535, the year before his death. All but the last cost muck 
labour. 



188 A DEBT OF GEATITUDE DUE TO HIM. 



that lie could laugli to scorn his monkish and scholastic 
calumniators. These men had exerted every effort to 
prevent the Bible from being given to the people. They 
thought that there was not the least occasion for them 
to examine the Scriptures, and that they ought in matters 
of religious belief to surrender themselves altogether to the 
guidance of those whom they considered as the infallible 
teachers of the Church. But Erasmus, in that noble 
passage in which he expressed his wish that "the 
husbandman should sing the verses while following his^ 
plough, the weaver while throwing his shuttle, and that the 
traveller should beguile with them the tedium of his jour- 
ney," has pronounced a distinct condemnation on the views 
of these divines, which he has rendered still more emphatic 
by publishing at the same time the works of Jerome, who 
endeavoured to give the Bible to the people in their own 
language. The wishes of Erasmus have now been fully 
gratified. Other men have opened the treasures of the 
sacred Scriptures to the astonished and delighted view of 
multitudes from whom they were locked up in a barbarous, 
obscure, and inaccurate version in .an unknown tongue. But 
while acknowledging the debt of gratitude which we owe to 
them, let us never forget to express our obligations to him 
who, amid difficulties occasioned by an imperfect knowledge 
of the art of deciphering manuscripts, the want of expe- 
rience on the part of the printers in the use of the Greek 
type, the want of money and other causes, which might Avell 
have daunted the most determined courage, prepared the 
way for that Eeformation of the Church which they conducted 
to a successful issue, not only by publishing the works of 
Jerome and of the other Latin Fathers, thus unfolding to the 
world the doctrines of the ancient Church, but also, and 
above all, by being the first to give an improved version of 
the Greek original of the iSTew Testament, as well as a 



A DEBT OF GEATITUDE DUE TO HIM. 189 

"better translation into Latin. He thus rescued from the 
Church of Rome many passages which in the Vulgate favoured 
her dogmas, and afforded a guide to those who very soon 
enabled all orders of the community to *' read in their own. 
tongues the Avonderful works of God." 



190 HIS CAEEER HITHEETO USEFUL AND SUCCESSFUL. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE VIEWS AND CONDUCT OF ERASMUS IN REGARD TO THE 
REFORMATION, AND THE MANNER IN WHICH HE AIDED ITS 
PROGRESS. — (A.D. 1517 — 1519.) 

The career of Erasmus had hitherto been useful and suc- 
cessful. He had, notwithstanding his poverty, his repudia- 
tion by his family, his want of books and masters to instruct 
him, and an incurable malady, become, by his transcendent 
abilities and indefatigable industry, the greatest scholar, 
and in some respects the greatest divine, on this side of the 
Alps. He was equal to, or surpassed, the most distinguished 
men in Italy. In wit and satire he was absolutely un- 
rivalled. Princes were constantly corresponding with him, 
and competing for the honour of his residence in their do- 
minions. The Pope and many distinguished prelates united 
to do him honour. The four or five years ending with 1517, 
when he was in his fifty-first year, were probably the hap- 
piest and most useful of his life. If he had died now, he 
would have been spared much misery, and he would have 
occupied a higher place than he does at the present time in 
the good opinion of his fellow-creatures. He never was, 
nor ever could have been, as we shall see hereafter, a 
Lutheran reformer, but he would have been celebrated as 
havinsf done much to enable others to effect a Reformation, 



YIEWS AS TO THE CONTEST ABOUT IXDULGEIS^CES. 191 

because lie condemned in his writings many of the dogmas- 
of Eomanism, because he, more than any one else, promoted 
the revival of classical learning, because he waged war with 
the scholastic philosophy and the superstitions of the Church 
of Eome, which he ridiculed in his works, and because he 
constantly appealed to Holy Scripture in all his exhortations 
and instructions. 

But I have now to present a melancholy reverse to this 
picture. We shall see it as we read the history of that 
great religious revolution which shook to its foundation the 
usurped dominion of the Roman Pontiff. I need not de- 
scribe minutely the contest about indulgences. Leo X. 
wished to replenish his exhausted coffers. Accordingly he 
determined on the sale of them. He persuaded the princes 
of Europe to allow the papal collectors to enter his domin- 
ions by promising them a share of the spoil. He assigned 
as his pretexts for this collection a war against the Turks, 
and the necessity of raising money for the erection of St. 
Peter's at Rome. Many saw through the hollowness of the 
first pretext. Erasmus thus expresses himself in a new edition 
of his " Adages": " I do not like to suspect what has too often 
been found to be true, that this rumour of a war against the 
Turks is put forward as a pretext for the spoliation of the 
people of Christendom."* And again, writing to Piiulus 
Volzius, an Abbot, he says, " Yf e are making preparations 
for a war against the Turks. With what viev,^ soever thifj 
be undertaken, we ought to pray to God that it may be 
profitable, not to a few, but to all of us in com.mon."t "We 
all know the issue of this matter. Luther, full of indigna- 
tion when he found certain people who came to him for 
confession deluding themselves with the idea that, after 
having purchased an indulgence, they might plunge without 
scruple and without remorse' into the practice of every vice. 
* ''Adages," c. 96S. + Op. torn. iii. p. 885, edit, Bas. 



192 LETTEE TO THE AECHBISHOP OP MAIIsTZ. 

and the perpetration of every crime, and when he wit- 
nessed the shameless traffic in indulgences carried on by 
Tetzel and his brother-monks, posted up on the church 
door at Wittembei^g, on the 31st October, 1517, ninety-five 
propositions against the doctrine of indulgences. This was 
the commencement of that memorable revolution which 
shook to its foundation the fabric of Papal domination. 

We learn the views of Erasmus on this movement from a 
remarkable letter written soon after this time to Albert, a 
younger brother of the Elector Joachim of Brandenburg, 
who at the age of four-and-twenty had been created Arch- 
bishop and Elector of Ivlaintz and Magdeburg, and after- 
wards a CardinaL'* He was sumptuous, worldly, and dis- 
fiipated ; but he had a clear perception of many of the 
abuses of Romanism, was in his heart not strongly opposed 
to Luther, and for a long time prevented the monks from 
-attacking him. '' The world" (he says) "is burdened with 
human ordinances, with scholastic opinions and dogmas, 
and with the tyranny of Mendicant brothers, who, although 
they are the satellites of the Eoman See, yet have become 
so numerous and have attained so much power, that they 
-are formidable to kings, and to the Pope himself. AVlien 
the Pope takes their part, he is more than a God to them ; 
but when he acts contrary to their interest, he is no more 
to them than a phantom. I do not condemn all, but most 
•of them are such as for gain and power do their best to en- 
snare the consciences of men. And with brazen front they 
began, not to preach Christ, but their own novelties, and 
afterwards more insolent dogmas. They so spoke of indul- 
gences that even fools must despise them. By these and 
similar means the strength of the gospel, by little and 
little, decayed ; and everything w^as gradually changing for 
the worse, so that at length that spark of Christian piety 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 402, edit. Eas. 



LETTER TO THE AECHBISHOP OF MAIXTZ. 19S 

would have been extinguislied, from which the flame of 
Christian love could be rekindled. The substance of re- 
ligion was inclining towards ceremonies more than Judaical. 
These evils are lamented by all good men, and by all divines 
who are not monks ; and the existence of them is admitted 
by some of the monks themselves in private conversation. 
These are the things which moved the spirit of Luther, and 
gave him the courage to oppose the intolerable impudence 
of certain men. I can come to no other conclusion when I 
know that he seeks neither honour nor gain." 

He said in the same letter, " I am neither the accuser of 
Luther, nor his advocate, nor his judge. I should not ven- 
ture to form an opinion as to his spirit. That is too diffi- 
cult a matter for me. But yet why should I be blamed if 
I favour him as a good man, as his enemies admit him 
to be ; or if I defend him as a man accused, a liberty which 
the laws allow even to sworn judges ; or if, as humanity 
requires, I defend him from the oppression of those 
who, under a false pretext of zeal, are zealously attacking 
polite learning ? AVhy should I not take compassion on 
him when I do not mix myself up with his cause 1 In a 
word, I think that it is the duty of a Christian so to favour 
Luther, that, if he be innocent, I would not have him trod- 
den down by a mcked faction, and if he be in erfor, I 
would rather have him reclaimed than destroyed. This- 
course is much more agreeable to the example of Christ, 
who, to use the words of the prophet, would not ' break 
the bruised reed, nor Cjuench the smoking flax.' " 

We see then that soon after Luther began his career, 
Erasmus expressed his approbation of his work. Li the- 
year 1517 he published a sixth edition of his '-'Adages,'" 
to the proverbs in which, as in previous editions, he 
added matter expressive of his indignation on account 
of the disgraceful conduct of the Pope, the ecclesiastics c5 

18 



194 LETTER TO PAUL VOLZITJS. 

the Churcli of E-ome, and of tlie monarchs of Europe. On 
Ms arrival at Basle from Louvain, in May, 1518, lie pub- 
lished a new edition of his " Enchiridion," to which he 
added a preface in the shape of a letter to Paul Volzius, an 
Abbot, containing strong observations on the follies and 
vices of the times.'* This letter, which was read all over 
Europe, increased the indignation of the monks against him. 
He alluded to the war against the Turks, and observed 
that attempts would be made to bring them over to Chris- 
tianity. He availed himself of this opportunity of again 
attacking the Schoolmen. " Shall we then put into their 
hands an Occam, a Durandus, a Scotus, a Gabriel, or an 
Al varus? What will they think of us, what will they 
think, when they hear of our perplexed subtleties concern- 
ing Instants, Formalities, Quiddities, and Eelations ? . . . . 
What, when they behold the Jacobins fighting for their 
Thomas, and the Minorites for their most refined and 
seraphic doctors, and the JSTominalists and Realists, each de- 
fending their own jargon, and attacking that of their ad- 
versaries. What must they think when they find it so 
very difiicult to know what expressions may be used when 
we speak of Jesus Christ ; as if you had to do with a 
morose and angry demon, whom you call forth to your own 
destruction if you make a mistake in the form of evocation, 
and not rather with a most merciful Saviour, who requires 
nothing from us but purity and simplicity of life ? . . . Tell 
me, I beseech you, what eff'ect this will produce when they 
observe that our lives contradict our creed, and observe our 
tyranny, our ambition, our avarice, our rapacity, our lust, 
our debauchery, our cruelty, and our oppressions? The 
best way of gaining them would be to show that we are the 
servants and imitators of Jesus Christ ; that we covet nei- 
ther their lands, nor their money, nor their wives, nor their 
daughters, but that we desire only their salvation, and the 
* Op. torn., iii. p. 885, edit. Bas. 



EESIDENCB AT LOUVAI^. 195 

■glory of Christ. This is the trae, pure, cand powerful theo- 
logy which formerly subjected to Jesus Christ the pride of 
philosophers, and the sceptres of kings." 

He then proceeded to attack all the religious orders, but 
especially the monks. " Those who are called monks are 
now found in the midst of worldly business, exercising a 
kind of tyranny over the affairs of men. They alone are 
holy. . . . Why should we thus narrow the Christian pro- 
fession, when Christ wished it to be as broad as possible 1 

"■ In every path of life, let all strive to attain to the mind 
of Christ. Let us assist one another, neither envying those 
vp-ho surpass us, nor despising those who may lag behind. 
And if any one should excel another, let him beware lest 
he be like the Pharisee in the Gospel, who recounted his 
good deeds to God j rather let him follow the teaching of 
Christ, and say, I am an unprofitable servant. Xo one 
more truly has faith than he who distrusts himself. Xo 
one is really farther from true religion than he who thinks 
himself most religious." 

In compliance with the urgent request of the authorities 
of the University of Louvain, Erasmus had now made that 
city his head-quarters for nearly two years, having gone to 
it in the winter of 1516-17. This University was as 
celebrated as that of Paris, and contained 3000 students. 
Soon after his arrival he composed the " Complaint of 
Peace." She harangues the public, enumerates the blessings 
she never fails to confer on mankind as long as she is 
honoured and respected by them, but complains that all 
classes of men had ceased to regard her. This treatise 
became very popular in Europe. On his arrival at Louvain 
from Basle, in the autumn of 1518, Erasmus had been 
attacked by a serious illness. A report of his death was 
brought to Cologne by a preaching brother, to a party of 
monks at a convivial meeting. They immediately ex- 

13—2 



196 HASD WOEK. 

pressed tlieir joy when the preacher told them in monkish 
Latin that he had died sine lux, sine crux, sine Deus. 

This severe illness was, in a measure," owing to hard 
study, and to the necessity of constant journeys from place 
to place. If he would write much on any subject, especially 
if he would bring out editions of classical authors, he must 
travel to everyplace in Europe where he could obtain access 
to books and manuscripts. He must not only undergo the 
fatigue of travel, but also suffer from the privations and the 
treatment of which he has given so graphic a description in 
his account of the German inns. After the labour of 
bringing out his edition of the New Testament, which, he 
said, destroyed his health, he had indeed declared that he 
was sick of a troublesome world, and had expressed his 
determination of giving up his studies, or at least of no 
more appearing as an author. But we find that he never 
carried that determination into effect. In fact, after that 
time, the number of his works rather increased than 
diminished. As we have seen in the case of the " Praise of 
Folly," he would never allow his mind to rest from work 
even during his travels. Nev/ editions of his works were,. 
as we shall see presently, constantly issuing from the press 
of Froben at Basle, and of Martins at Louvain, two of the 
very few intelligent men who could b6 trusted to print and 
correct works in the ancient languages. The immediate 
cause of this illness was hard work in Froben's office for 
several months on his " Paraphrase;" or, exposition of the 
meaning of seven of the Epistles. He had published that 
on the "Epistle to the Eomans " at Louvain in 1517. In 
compliance with .Colet's wish he was also preparing at this 
time "Paraphrases on the Gospels." This work was pro- 
jected by him as long ago as 1516, immediately after he had 
finished his " New Testament," to which he designed it to be 
a companion. It seemed as if the report of his death brought 



PARAPHRASES 0^ THE GOSPELS AlvTD EPISTLES. 197 

to the monks were only premature, and that Erasmus would 
have been carried off at this time before he had completed 
it. But they had no occasion for their rapturous applause. 
He recovered, and published the work on the Epistles just 
referred to in the spring of 1519, and a Paraphrase on the 
remainder of the Epistles, and on the Gospels subsequent^. 
As the "Paraphrases on the Gospels and Epistles" is a very 
important work, I shall now make a few observations 
upon it. 

It was highly valued in the age in which he lived. It 
seems to have escaped censure. The best critics of 
former days have expressed a high opinion of its merits. 
■"Never did Papist, Lutheran, or Calvinist," said Scaliger, 
"compose a better or more elegant work than the 'Para- 
phrase of Erasmus.'" Of course, great advances have 
been made in the critical knowledge of Holy Scripture since 
•the time of its publication. But still we may say that we 
owe a debt of gratitude to him, inasmuch as he removed 
the rubbish which had been for ages accumulating over the 
sacred volume, and called attention to the simple and 
historical interpretation of the Bible. The "' Paraphrases '* 
should never be separated from the " Annotations on the 
New Testament." In the latter his business was to explain 
words, and he does not always show fully the connection 
•of the passage with the context, nor bring forward the argu- 
ments which have led the sacred writer to his conclusions. He 
lias supplied these deficiencies to the fullest extent in his 
"Paraphrases." He has not expressed the meaning of the 
■ Sacred Writers in the words which they would have used if 
they had written in the Latin language, but he has 
endeavoured to discuss their doctrine, and has introduced 
as many words and ideas into his "Paraphrase" as he deemed 
to be necessary to fix it in the minds of his readers. His 
great object was to explain the New Testament by itself. 



198 PAEAPHEASES O^t rr^E GOSPELS AXD EPISTLES. 

As lie was well acquainted with the writings of the Fathers,, 
he has given with great perspicuity the sense of Christian 
antiquity as to the meaning of particular passages. This 
work was, at the time of the Reformation in England, so 
highly esteemed hj Cranmer, that he caused it to be 
translated into English, to be authorized by the king, and 
to be placed, along with the Bible, in our churches for 
public use. Every parish was enjoined to buy a copy. A 
charge of £20,000 was thus laid on the realm. Mutilated 
and moth-eaten copies may still occasionally be seen chained 
to their desks. I have given Bishop Stillingfleet's observa^ 
tions on it in my introductory chapter. Strype informs us 
that the " Paraphrase on the Four Gospels " was translated 
and published in English at the charge and direction of the 
amiable and learned Queen Catherine Parr, who employed 
Nicholas Udal, master of Eton School, and others in that 
work, and is supposed to have done part of it herself.* It 
was published in 1547. The whole work was finished in 
1549 and 1552. Gardiner, Bishop of AVinchester, was 
opposed to the public use of it ; but Cranmer asserted that, 
though not free from errors, it was the best work of the 
kind ; that it was written by " the most indifferent writer ;"t 
by which words he meant by one who was quite impartial,, 
who was strongly opposed to scholastic theology, and was 
well acquainted with the works of the Fathers. This is one 
of those publications by which he showed that, in building 
up the faith of this country, he was influenced more by a 
spirit of comprehension than of exclusion. " Having been 
executed by a member of the Church of Rome, from whose 
eyes, however," as Professor Blunt observes in his " History 
of the Reformation, "J " the scales were fast falling, it was. 



* Strype's Memor., vol. ii. p. 28. 

t Burnet's Hist, of Reform., ii. 37, fol. J Page 203- 



PEOFESSOR BLUNT OIS~ THE " PAEAPHEASES." 199 

calculated, he might think (and an expression v,^hich drops 
from him confirms this), for a Church in a state of transition 
like our own. Had Gardiner compared it," he continues, 
" with similar writings of some other of the Eeformers, he 
would have found that, in making such a choice, Cranmer, 
so far from intending to irritate, could only be led by a 
desire to conciliate the Roman Catholics as much as might 
be without . a compromise. Had he compared, for instance, 
Erasmus's ' Paraphrase of the Galatians ' with the Com- 
mentary of Luther on the same Epistle ; had he contrasted 
the caution of the one interpreter with the intrepidity, not 
to say hardihood, of the other, the different degrees of 
animation with which the great evangelical doctrines, and 
those the most obnoxious to the Roman Catholics, are 
respectively handled by them ; the different degrees of 
keenness they discover in the detection of those doctrines 
under the same texts ; the more or less reserved sense in 
which the works of the law are understood as affecting 
justification ; not to speak of the direct fulminations against 
the Church of Rome, which Luther takes every occasion to 
launch, and Erasmus to withhold ; if he had thus done, 
probably Luther's most powerful treatise would not, indeed, 
have made him a convert to his opinions ; Cranmer him- 
self most likely would have disavowed, or at least tempered, 
several of them; but it would have, at any rate, satisfied 
him that the Archbishop had far more offensive weapons in 
his armoury than those which he thought proper on this 
occasion to produce." 

Luther, since the publication of the theses on indulgences, 
had been preserved from the indignation of the Pope. He 
would only have rushed on certain destruction, if God had 
not disposed the heart of Frederic, the Elector of Saxony, to 
befriend him. Having been summoned to appear before 
the Pope's legate at Augsburg, he had vanquished him in 



200 LUTHEPo'S LETTEE TO EEASMUS. 

argument. The result was that Eome was about to hurl 
her spiritual thunderbolts at the intrepid champion of the 
Reformation. Frederic, intimidated by her menaces, gave 
Luther an intimation that he must prepare to withdraw from 
his dominions. The spiritual fate of Germany, indeed of Europe 
itself, seemed to be at this time trembling in the balance. 
But the Reformer was not obliged to bend before the storm. 
The thunderbolt was poised ; but it was not hurled. The 
Prince of the kings of the earth smote down with his 
sceptre the hand which had just drawn it from the Papal 
arsenal. The Pope, who had just been breathing forth 
threatenings against him, seems suddenly to have changed 
them for the winning accents of conciliation. It may be 
that he fancied that he would never have opposed him, if he 
had not received an assurance that Frederic would make 
common cause with him, and would declare as his enemies 
those who endeavoured to compass his destruction. The 
result was that Luther Avas not banished from the land of 
his fathers, and that he was enabled to carry forward 
towards completion the enterprise in which he was engaged. 

It was during the pause which followed these proceedings 
that Erasmus and Luther wrote to each other. In March, 
1519, Luther sent a very courteous letter to Erasmus. He 
fancied that the latter must be altogether on his side, 
because he had declared himself against the superstitious 
religion of the monks, and because these men equally 
detested both of them. He spoke of Erasmus as reigning in 
the hearts of all who loved literature. It seemed to him 
that he could discover the taste and temper of Erasmus 
from his new Preface to his " Enchiridion."'" 

To this letter Erasmus sent a reply in the following May. 
He had already, as we have seen, expressed his approbation 
of the Lutheran movement. At the beginning he called Luther 
* Op, torn. iii. p. 243, edit. Bas. 



THE EEPLT OF EKASMUS. I-Ol 

his dearest brother in Christ, and informed him that he had 
not read his -works, and therefore could neither approve nor 
disapprove of them ; but that it would be much better for 
his adversaries to publish grave and solemn arguments 
against them, than to find fault with them before the multi- 
tude, especially as the moral character of the author was 
irreproachable. He had, however, looked into part of his 
*' Commentaries on the Psalms," was much pleased with 
them, and hoped that they might prove very useful. Many 
persons in England and at Louvain, he added, commended his 
writings. AVe find afterwards an exhortation to moderation, 
and a recommendation to attack not the persons of Popes 
and Kings, but abuses of their authority, and those evil 
counsellors who had imposed upon them.'^ 

A little time afterwards Erasmus wrote to Cardinal 
AVolsey. He complained in this letter very heavily of some 
persons who tried to prevent him from carrying into effect 
his design of applying human learning to sacred purposes, 
and of translating and illustrating the Scriptures. '-As to 
Luther," he continued, " he is altogether unkno^Ti to me, 
and I have read nothing of his except two or three pages — 
not because I dislike him, but because my own studies and 
occupations do not give me leisure to do so. But yet, as I 
hear, some persons say that I have assisted him. If he has 
written well, the praise must not be given to me, and if he 
has written ill, I ought not to be blamed, since, in aU his 
writings, there is not a line which came from me. His life 
is universally commended; and it is an argument in his 
favour, that his character is unblamable. I was once against 
Luther, because I was afraid that he would bring an odium 
upon hterature, which is already too much suspected of 
evil ; for I know full well how invidious it is to ojjpose 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 244. 



202 LETTEE TO SLECHTA. 

tliose opinions wliicli bring so plentiful a harvest of gain to 
the priests and monks."'" 

Erasmus wrote a remarkable letter at this time, which 
may serve to show his views on the great question of the 
E-eformation of the Church. Joannes Slechta, a Bohemian, 
had written a long letter to Erasmus, in which he gave him 
an account of three religious parties in Bohemia. First, he 
spoke of the Papal party, among whom were most of the ma- 
gistrates and nobility : the second, he said, administered the 
Sacrament in both kinds to the laity, and performed divine- 
service in the vulgar tongue ; the third was the sect of the 
Pyghards, who abhorred the priests and monks, regarded the 
Pope and clergy as Antichrist, thought little of the au- 
thority of Fathers and Schoolmen, saw only simple bread and 
wine, no divinity, in the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper; 
rejected auricular confession, penance, extreme unction, and 
other doctrines of Eomanism.t 

Erasmus replied by condemning the Pyghards on some 
points, and commending them on others. He blamed 
Slechta also for his harsh feelings towards them. He 
thus continued : "Many might be reconciled to the Church 
of Eome, if we did not define everything exactly, and were 
contented with those doctrines which are laid down in the 
Holy Scriptures, and are necessary to salvation. These are 
few in number ; and it is easier to persuade men to accept 
few than many. Now, out of one article we make a 
hundred, some of which are such that men might be ignorant 
of them or doubt them without any injury to religion. 
But such is the nature of men, that they will obstinately 
maintain what has once been defined. The sum of the 
philosophy of Christ lies in this — that we should know that all 
our trust is to be placed in God, who freely gives us all things 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 371, edit. Bas. 
t Ibid., p. 462. 



LATITUDIKAEIAN VIE^S OP EEASilUS. 203 

"by His Son Jesus Christ; that we are redeemed by the 
death of the Son of God, that being dead to the desires of 
the world, we may live conformably to His precepts and 
example, not only doing evil to no one, but doing good to all ; 
that, when adversity befalls us, we should patiently submit 
to it, in hopes of the reward which is reserved for all good 
men at the coming of Christ ; that we should make a daily 
progress in virtue, ascribing nothing to ourselves, but every- 
thing to God. Such are the convictions with which man 
ought to be penetrated, until this has become in him a 
second nature. If any wish to inquire into abstruse points 
concerning the divine nature, the person of Jesus Christ, or 
the Sacraments, in order that they may improve their under- 
standings, and raise their minds and affections above earthly 
things, let them be permitted to do so, provided their 
Christian brethren be not compelled to believe everything 
which different teachers think to be true. As instruments 
expressed in a multitude of Avords lead to law suits, so, in 
religion, many determinations, decrees, and decisions, lead to 
endless controversies."* 

From this letter it appears that Erasmus was very lati- 
tudinarian in his views. He would have a very compre- 
hensive Church. He would admit to it the Pyghards, as 
well as their opponents. Herein he differed altogether 
from Luther. The latter has called the doctrine of justifi- 
cation by faith, the article of a standing or a falling 
Church. Luther, when he began to read the "JN'ovum 
Instrumentum," found that on matters connected with this 
doctrine, the system of Erasmus and his own were directly 
opposed to each other. Erasmus, however, did not perceive 
at first the fundamental difference between himself and 
Luther, or he would not have written the letters commend- 
ing his work, extracts from which have been recently given.. 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 465, edit. Bas. 



204 Luther's opinions. 

Luther had a very decided opinion on the doctrine of 
original sin. He held that we must feel deeply our disease 
before we can apply for a remedy. Conviction of sin is one 
-of the most striking features in his system. He thus wrote 
in his first Commentary on the Epistle to the Gralatians : 
*'Be it that I have not committed, in ad, homicide, adultery, 
theft, and other sins of such a kind, against the second 
table of God's commands ; yet I have committed them in 
heart. Wherefore I am a transgressor of all the command- 
ments of God, and so great is the multitude of my sins, 
that an ox-hide could not encompass them. Nay, they are 
not to be numbered; I have sinned more times than the 
sea has sands." And again he wrote : " Do not imagine your 
sins small, such as your own works can do away. Do not 
despair at their number, when you truly feel them in life, or 
in the hour of death. ; but believe that Christ, for no feigned 
and pretended, but for real sins ; for sins not small, but the 
very greatest ; not for one or two sins, but for all sins ; not 
for subdued sins (for no man, no angel, can subdue the very 
least sin), but for sins unsubdued, was delivered to death." 
We may easily imagine that, holding these views on the 
" exceeding sinfulness of sin," he would be deeply grieved 
when, as, in the course of his reading, he comes to the 
*' Annotations " on chapter v. of the Epistle to the Eomans, 
where the Apostle speaks of death "having reigned from 
Adam to Moses, even over them that had not sinned after 
the similitude of Adam's transgression," he finds Erasmus 
remarking that he does not think it needful here to resort 
to the doctrine of "original sin," however true in itself, and 
hinting at the possibility of " hating Pelagius more than 
enough," and of making use of the doctrine of " original sin" 
too freely as a means of extricating ourselves from theo- 
logical difiiculties, as astrologers had invented a system of 
epicycles to get them out of their astronomical dilemmas. 



DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LUTHER AND ERASMUS. 205- 

The further he reads, the less he likes Erasmus' system. 
He thus exj)resses himself concerning him in a letter to his 
friend Spalatin : " What pains me in Erasmus, that most 
learned man, my dear Spalatin, is, that by the righteousness of 
works or of the law, of which the Apostle speaks, he under- 
stands the fulfiUmg of the ceremonial law. Now, the righteous- 
ness of the law consists not only in ceremonies, but in all the 
works of the Decalogue. AYhen these works are done with- 
out faith in Christ, they may, it is true, make men such as 
Eabricius, Eegulus, and others, of perfect integrity in the 
eyes of men ; but in that case they deserve as little to be 
called righteousness, as the fruit of a medlar to be called a fig. 
For we do not become righteous, as Aristotle pretends, by 
doing works of righteousness ; but having become righteous,. 
we do such works. The man must first be changed, and 
then the works. Abel was first righteous before God, and 
then liis sacrifice." Luther continues : " I beg of you herein 
to do the part of a friend and a Christian, by pointing out 
these things to Erasmus."''" This letter shows very plainly 
his anxiety that he should receive into his heart these great 
truths, in order that he might employ his wonderful genius,, 
and exert his amazing influence in the propagation of them 
throughout the Continent of Europe. 

Luther continued his study of the Novum "Instrumentum," 
and we find him writing again from Wittemberg, that every 
day, as he reads, he loses his liking for Erasmus. " I love 
to see him," he says, "reprove, with so much learning and 
firmness, the priests and monks for their ignorance j but I 
fear that he does small service to the doctrine of Jesus 
Christ. He has more at heart what depends on man than 
what depends on God. A man is not a good Christian 
because he understands Greek and Hebrew. The judgment 

* DAubigne's "Hist, of the Eef ormation, " vol. i. p. 193, Scott's- 
translation. 



208 LUTHES'S VIEWS 0^ JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 

of a man who attributes anything to tlie human will is one 
thing ; the judgment of him who recognizes nothing but grace 
is another thing. Nevertheless, I carefully keep this opinion 
to myself, lest I should strengthen the cause of his opponents. 
I trust that the Lord will give him understanding in His 
own good time."-* 

Luther undoubtedly felt strongly on these subjects. He 
had, some years before, determined to bury himself amid 
the gloom of cloistered seclusion, that he might, by penances 
and mortifications, obtain that holiness which was the object 
of his desire. But his corruptions seemed to him to gather 
fresh strength with every effort which he exerted to subdue 
them. He was invited to satisfy the divine justice by his 
good works. But he found, as he tells us, that they v\^ere so 
defective and so polluted, that he could not, in this way, 
obtain the blessings of pardon and justification. He never 
knew when the tale of bricks was complete. He never 
-could be satisfied that he had done enough to secure the 
approbation of his Maker. Then Staupitz, the vicar- 
general of the Augustinians, directed him_, as we read in his 
history, to the only true source of peace and consolation. 
He told him that, when he was clad in the robe of Christ's 
most perfect righteousness, ho would endure, unabashed, the 
searching gaze of a God of infinite purity. And then he 
exclaimed: "When I knew this doctrine, the doctrine of 
the imputation of Christ's righteousness, the gates of 
Paradise, before closed, burst open to my view." 

Thus Luther was led to consider the question between 
■himself and Erasmus as one of the greatest importance. 
The law spoken of in the Scripture was the ceremonial law 
-only, or the moral law also. But Luther has shown that 
both are referred to. If we maintain, with Erasmus, that 
ceremonial acts are the only ones by wdiicli we cannot be 
* Luther, Epp. i. p. 52. 



DIFFERE]\'T MODES OP EEFORMING THE CHUECH. '207 

justified, we are entangled again in that yoke of bondage 
from which, as we have just seen, Luther, ha\dng been 
emancipated himself, laboured to emancipate the nations of 
Europe. In fact, an error on this point constitutes the 
foundation of the Eoman Catholic system. A man holding 
the views of Erasmus may remain contentedly a member of 
that Church, which afterwards decreed at Trent : "If any 
man shall say that men are justified by the imputation of 
Christ's righteousness, or that the grace by which we are 
justified is the favour of God alone — in other words, that it 
is not something in ourselves, and meriting justification — 
let him be anathema or accursed." But a man holding the 
views of Luther cannot remain a member of a Church which, 
denies this doctrine. His language will be the same which. 
Luther addressed to a friend : " Learn to despair of thyself, 
and to say to Christ, 'Thou, Lord Jesus, thou art my 
righteousness, and I, I am thy sin. Thou hast taken what 
was mine, and thou hast given me what is Thine.' Thou, 
my dear brother, shalt find peace only in him, by despairing 
of thyself and thy works, and by learning with what love 
He opens His arms to receive thee, taking thy sins upon 
Him, and giving thee all His righteousness.^' 

These two great men were not only on points of doctrine, but 
also in regard to the mode of reforming the Church, to some 
extent, antagonistic to each other. Luther was always ready 
to bare his bosom to the strife, and to rush into the heat 
and sorest part of the battle. He never hesitated nor faltered 
in his onward career. Erasmus, on the contrary, could not 
oppose all the dogmas of Eomanism. He did not recognize 
that in this war there could be no neutrality. He joined 
Luther in condemning the luxury of the successors of the 
Apostles ; he opposed auricular confession, the trust in the 
Virgin, the invocation of the Saints, the worship of relics, 
and other doctrines of the Church of Eome ; but he could 



208 WISH OF EEASMUS FOE A PEACEFUL REFORM. 

not accept, as we have just seen, the distinguishing doctrine 
of the Reformation, asserting that faith in Christ meant " to 
aim at virtue only ;" to imitate those graces which shone 
forth in His all perfect character, and proclaimed the in- 
dwelling of the Godhead. Hence it was that he often com- 
mended Luther, and exhorted his opponents to refute him 
hy fair argument -, and that he often urged the Reformer 
himself to be moderate, and recommended him to adopt a 
less uncompromising tone in his opposition to the dominant 
Church. He laboured by every means to promote the peace 
of Christendom. Thus, in the letter to Cardinal Campegius, 
prefixed to his "Paraphrase on the Epistle to the Ephesians," 
he recommended Pope Leo to order the parties to deliver 
their confession of faith without attacking, insulting, or 
reviling that of others.* If they could not agree, thej^ 
were to dispute with candour and mildness. If they dif- 
fered on important points, they should select able and dis- 
interested men who were to discuss them with great 
moderation. Erasmus, however, forgot that there were 
very few who were not avowed partizans on one side or the 
other j that fewer still had the learning which qualified 
them to discuss the matters which would be brought before 
them ; and that the probability was that even if they could 
come to a decision, it would not be accepted by the large 
proportion of the inhabitants of Europe. 

The truth was, that the schemes of Erasmus were not at 
all calculated to accomplish the object designed by them. 
He hoped that the human race, refined by polite learning, 
\ and enlightened by the diff'usion of Scriptural knowledge, 
would shake off the superstitions of the middle ages, would 
; adopt a religion drawn directly from the records of heavenly 
truth, and would pursue their onward career of moral and 

* Op. torn vii. p. G97, edit. Bas. 



A PEACEFUL EEPOEMATION IMPOSSIBLE. 209 

spiritual improvement. Herein Luther would, to a certain 
extent, agree with him. Tiiese two eminent men exerted 
a vigorous, a sustained, a persevering effort to disperse 
the darkness then brooding over the nations. But Luther 
was not so deficient in common sense as to suppose, like 
Erasmus, that mild exhortations would induce the rulers of 
the Church to reform abuses from which they derived bene- 
fit ; that they would willingly resign the pomp and luxury 
with which they were surrounded, the gay cavalcade, the 
table piled with costly viands, the jewelled mitre, and th& 
gorgeous robe; that anything short of a terrible convulsion 
would tear up the towers, or dismantle the bulwarks of that 
structure of ecclesiastical power which had been continually 
growing up, and had been consolidated by the addition of 
fresh materials and strong buttresses through successive 
generations. Mild measures had been employed for ages; 
and all of them had failed of the wished-for success. The 
Mendicants had attempted to reform the Church ; but, by 
their covetousness, their arrogance, and their disputes, 
they had increased the evil which they were established to 
remedy. The poets had attempted in vain to arrest the 
progress of that moral leprosy which was infecting all orders 
of human society. Council after council had laboured un- 
successfully for the accomplishment of the same object. 
The moral pollution of Christendom had, notwithstanding 
those efforts, become continually greater, until at length 
men stood aghast at the revolting features which it exhi- 
bited. Erasmus, however, was not convinced that a reform- 
ation could not be effected in the manner above referred 
to. He persevered in his exhortations and remonstrances. 
When, however, he found that all this well-meant advice 
proved of no avail, then he thought that it would be better 
to wait to some future time when the reformation might be 
effected without those civil and religious convulsions which 

14 



210 A PEACEFUL REPOEMATION IMPOSSIBLE. 

might, as he feared, shatter the framework of the Church 
into fragments, and might even be the means of dissolving 
society, into its original elements. But that day could never 
be expected to arrive. A desperate disease required a strong 
remedy. A change so great as the one now before us could 
not be accomplished without terrible commotions. If we 
"wait till we can prevent evil from mingling with the good, 
we shall have to abandon many of those high and holy 
enterprises v/hich have for their object the amelioration of 
human society. The elements of strife in the bosom of 
Christendom were labouring for a vent, and must have 
found it ere long. As well might the men of those days 
have saved Europe from that outburst, as they could have 
prevented that stream of molten lava from issuing from the 
summit of the mountain, which changes the garden of roses 
at its foot into a bleak and desolate waste, possessing 
scarcely one spot of verdure. If the Eeformation had 
been postponed according to the wishes of Erasmus, the 
consequence would have been that the common herd of 
the people, unrestrained by that piety which it promoted 
even among the poorest and the vilest, would have rushed 
forth with uncontrollable fury, and would have spread 
ruin and desolation around them. We owe a debt of 
gratitude to those who laboured to prevent that fearful 
catastrophe ; who, instead of shrinking appalled from the 
dangers and difficulties which they were sure to encounter, 
endeavoured to contend with and destroy those evils 
which followed in the train of the Eeformation, when she 
went forth on her errand of mercy to the nations of the 
earth. 

We have seen some of the points of difference between 
Erasmus and Luther. He differed from him also in another 
respect. He had not his moral courage. Though a thou- 
sand hostile forms thronged the path he was pursuing. 



ERASMUS DEFICIENT IN COUEAGE. 211 

Luther was still prepared to marcli forward. Erasmus, 
however, trembled and drew back when he surveyed the 
whole length and breadth of the danger to which he would 
have been exposed if he had made common cause with him. 
He had a religious horror of war. He would rather, we are 
much grieved to say, surrender some portion of the truth 
than disturb the peace of Christendom. In a letter to his 
friend Pace, Dean of St. Paul's, when speaking of Luther, 
he says, " If he had written everything in the most unex- 
ceptionable manner, I had no inclination to die for the sake 
of truth. Every man has not the courage requisite to make 
a martyr ; and, I am afraid, that it I were put to the trial 
I should imitate St. Peter."* We must not indeed suppose 
that Erasmus acted against his conscience in this unwilling- 
ness to come forward, and lead the assault on the confeder- 
-ated legions of Eome. On the contrary, he felt that this was a 
•work to which, on account of his age, his infirm constitution, 
and his peculiar temperament, he was altogether unequal. 
For another reason he was quite disqualified from being a 
leader in the work of emancipation. He greatly disliked 
all the modern languages, and would not take the trouble 
to gain a sufficient knowledge of them to enable him to 
hold a conversation in them. He has often expressed a wish 
that every language were proscribed excepting the Latin 
and Greek. But the Reformation, as an eminent writer 
observes, was to be an emancipation wrought among 
people not of Latin, but of Teutonic descent, through the 
medium of the vernacular language. t He was unwilling, 
too, to separate from his friends, Warham, More, Mountjoy, 
Fisher, and others, whose names were hallowed by a 
thousand tender recollections. We cannot indeed suppose 
that the probable loss of his pensions, and the fear of 
■ coming to want, would have had the effect of preventing him 

* Jortin's "Life," vol. i. p. 273. t Milman's Essays, p. 128. 

U— 2 



212 THE AUTHOEITY OF THE CHUECH. 

from openly placing himself under the banner of the Ee- 
formers ; but still I am afraid that the prospect of losing 
the favour of Henry VIII., Charles V., and the Popes, 
might have had a considerable influence in determining his. 
conduct, for he often, as we shall see hereafter, showed a 
childish vanity when he spoke of the numerous letters which 
he had received from them, and of the many gifts and 
tokens of their high appreciation of his mental endowments 
and profound erudition which they had conferred upon him. 
Perhaps these considerations would have had less influence 
with him, if he could have understood that this was a death- 
struggle on the issue of which was to depend the emancipa- 
tion of the nations of Europe from their spiritual and 
temporal bondage. Perhaps, too, he would have shown 
more decision if he had been free from the prejudices of 
education. He had very confused notions about the 
authority of the Eoman Catholic Church as an arbiter of 
controversies. He talks much about implicit submission ta 
her judgment in matters of faith. We must remember that 
Luther was under the influence of the same prejudices. '* I 
entered on this affair," he said, " with great fear and 
trembling. Who was I at that time — I a poor wretched 
despicable friar, more like to a dead body than a man — who 
was I to oppose the majesty of the Pope, in whose presence 
not only the kings of the earth and the entire world, but 
further, if I may so speak, heaven and earth trembled, and 
were constrained to obey his nod V'^ Since then a man, 
in the prime of life, of an iron constitution, of great personal 
courage, and of an indomitable will, found it very difficult 
to cast off his superstitious reverence for the Pope, and 
enter on a deadly struggle with that giant who had so long 
lorded it over God's heritage, — a man too who had not the 
same connection as Erasmus with the Pope, the bigoted 

* D'Aubigne's " History of the Eeformation, " vol. i. p. 129. 



DIFFICULTIES IX THE WAY OF A CHAXGE. 213 

sovereigns of Europe, and the dignitaries of tlie Churcli of 
Eome, — we can easily imagine that the latter Avould expe- 
rience great difficulty in making a change if we remember that 
he had come to an age when men cannot, without avery strong 
effort, divest themselves of cherished prejudices and pre- 
possessions, that disease incapacitated him for that effort, or 
for vigorous action of any description, and that he had now 
arrived at a time of life when a mind, the whole force of 
which had been given in youth and in manhood to the 
investigation of truth, longed ardently for repose, and was 
naturally unwilling to give itself to the solution of per- 
plexing and difficult c|uestions. He could not decide for 
either party, for he thought that both had some errors. We 
shall have occasion to mention presently causes of his 
alienation from the Eeformers. 'We could have wished, 
indeed, that the case had been otherwise, not only on 
account of his peace of mind, as we shall see hereafter, but 
also on account of the vast influence, which, if he had been 
more decided, he would have exercised on the progress of 
this great religious revolution. But while we condemn him 
for his failings, let us never forget the debt of gratitude 
which we owe to him ; that he spent a long and laborious 
life in opposing barbarous ignorance, blind superstition, and 
many of the errors of the Churcli of Eome ; and, let us 
admit, that he deserves to be called the most illustrious of 
the Reformers before the Reformation. 

About the time when Luther commenced his career, the 
opposition of the ecclesiastics to Erasmus began. At all 
times and in all places, but especially from the pulpits, were 
now heard fierce invectives against him. Up to the jescr 
1520, he enjoyed the esteem and confidence of the leading- 
men of both parties. Those who assailed him were men of 
an inferior class, monks and friars. He refers to this oppo- 



214 oPFOSiTioisr of tee mckes to eeasmus. 

sition^in a letter to Lis friend, Cardinal Campegiiis.* He 
says that if he censured tliem, he meant only the vicious 
part of them, and had taken no greater liberties than 
Jerome had taken before him, who was himself a monk. 
He did not, however, remember that the number of those 
to whom his censures were applicable was very great in- 
deed; and that whole orders were remarkable for their 
disregard of every social and relative obligation. We can- 
not wonder that they should have been so much incensed 
against him, when we remember that in his "Praise of 
Folly," and his " Enchiridion," as we have seen, and more 
recently still, as I have stated, in a new preface to the 
latter, he had censured their formality, their gross ignor- 
ance, and their obstinate attachment to the barbarous scho- 
lastic philosophy. 

The monks brought the most absurd charges against him 
and the Lutherans. Writing to the Archbishoj) of Maintz^ 
he says, " He was formerly reckoned a heretic who differed 
from the Gospels, from the articles of faith, or from what 
had equal authority with tliem. Now any man who differs 
from Thomas is called a heretic. What does not please- 
them, what they do not understand, is heresy. To know 
Greek is heres}'' ; to show refinement in conversation is 
heresy ; whatever they do not do themselves is heresy. "t 
He also states in his letter to CampegiuS; already'' referred 
to, that the monks, headed by some Dominicans and Car- 
melites, stirred heaven and earth to ruin the professors of 
literature, whom they railed against in their sermons as de- 
testable heretics, doubtless because they imagined that they 
had promoted the progress of the Reformation. In a letter 
to Franciscus Chiregatus he complains of the malice of the 
monks who, in their theological lectures, and in their ser- 
mons, affected to couple him with Luther. He says that a 
■'■ Op, torn. iii. p. 444, edit. Bas. t Ibid. p. 403, edit. Bas. 



STORY ABOUT THE FOWLS. 215 

certain moDk, a coadjutor to the Bishop of Tournay, had 
declaimed at Bruges against Luther and him 3 and that, 
being asked by a magistrate what heresies there were in the 
books of Erasmus, replied, •' I have not read them ; once I 
attempted to read his "Paraphrases," but I found the La- 
tinity too exalted. I am afraid that he may have fallen into 
some heresy on account of his exalted Latinity."'''' 

The following amusing story in a letter from Bilibald 
Pirckheimer to Erasmus may serve to show the ignorance 
and prejudices of the monks. A Mendicant monk, being in 
a company where Erasmus was highly commended, did not 
hesitate to express his dissatisfaction by his look and man- 
ner. On being urged to declare what fault he had to find 
with him, he said that he was a notorious eater of fowls ; 
and that he knew it to be the case, not only because he had 
seen it himself, but because others had told him of it. " Did 
Erasmus buy them or steal them ]" asked Pirckheimer. " He 
bought them," replied the monk. "Why, then," said 
Pirckheimer, " there is a certain fox, which is a greater 
knave ; for he often comes into my yard and takes away a 
fowl without paying me. But is it then a sin to eat fowls ?" 
'' Most certainly," said the monk; "it is the sin of glut- 
tony, and it becomes the more heinous when it is committed 
by Churchmen." "Perhaps," said Pirckheimer, "he eats 
them on fast-daj^s." "Ko," replied the monk; "but we, 
who are ecclesiastics, ought to have nothing to do with deli- 
cacies of this ' description." "Ah! my good father, you 
have not got that large paunch by eating dry bread ; and if 
all the fowls which now fill it could raise their voice, and 
cackle all together, they would make noise enough to drown 
the drums and trumpets of an army !" t 

The following story of a certain Dr. Stan dish, afterwards 
Bishop of St. Asaph, may be given to show the ignorant op- 

"" Op. torn. iii. p. 458, edit. Bas. + Ibid. p. 549, edit.Lugd. 



216 STANDISH's SERMOIT against ERASMUS. 

position of the ecclesiastics to Erasmus. He was preaching 
at St. Paul's Cross on the subject of Christian charity ; but 
he very soon ceased to allude to it, and made a violent at- 
tack upon Erasmus, and his translation of the New Testa- 
ment into Latin. He said that it was intolerable that Eras- 
mus should dare to corrupt the Gospel of St. John ; for 
when the Church had for so many years read, " In princi- 
pio erat verbum," he had brought in a new reading, •' In 
principio erat sermo." " He added " wrote Erasmus, " that 
Augustine liked the word ' verbum ' better than ' ratio,' and 
gave his reasons for it. But this Glrecian, Erasmus, does not 
understand those reasons. After he had continued for some 
time in this strain, he tried his eloquence in moving the affec- 
tions of the people ; he deplored his condition that where he 
had for so many years read, ' In principio erat verbum,' he 
must now be compelled to read ' In principio erat sermo,' 
hoping, by this lamentable complaint, to move the people 
to tears. Then, with loud protestations, he called upon the 
Mayor of the city of London, the aldermen, and all the 
common people to give their assistance, for the Christian 
religion was in the greatest danger. He thought that he 
spoke as if he were inspired, and yet he pleased nobody ; 
for those who were only moderately learned wondered at 
his folly ; those who had any sense laughed at trifles which 
had no connection with his subject ; and those who were of 
a more serious character were greatly offended, because he 
filled the ears of the people, who expected lo hear some- 
thing very different, with babbling of this description." 

Standish dined the same day at Court, and two learned 
friends of Erasmus seated themselves on purpose at the 
same table with him. They asked him whether he had 
read the translation of Erasmus. His answer was that he 
had read as much as he had any inclination to read. They 
proved that he had altogether mistaken the sense of the 



STANDISH's ACCUSATI0I7 OF HBI BEFORE THE COURT. 217 

passage in Augustine ; and told bim that he had acted very 
badly in having attacked in public, for a passage in his 
writings, a man who had otherwise deserved well, when he 
had neither read nor understood the matter. After hav- 
ing brought him to confess that what he had preached was 
from pure zeal, and having proved to him by one instance, 
to the great amusement of the party, that he was very 
ignorant, and that his zeal was without kuovvdedge, Stan- 
dish became very angr}^, and said to one of them, " You 
had better then go up into the pulpit and preach against 
me." "No," he said, "lam not so foolish as to preach 
these things to tradesmen and old women. If I were to 
preach at Paul's Cross to-da.y, I should publicly declare what 
you have said to be false and heretical." Standish, when 
he heard this, became still more angry, and when the same 
person went on to say, " You find fault with the translation 
of Erasmus, and say that it contains heresy, when the Pope 
has confirmed it by two Bulls," he was quite confounded, 
but he showed neither shame nor repentance.* 

The following is another story of Standish after he had 
become Bishop, and of his zeal against Erasmus. One day 
tit Court, he broke throusjh the crowd, and fell down on his 
knees before the King and Queen. Those who were present 
expected something extraordinary from a venerable man, 
who enjoyed a high reputation as a divine. He began in 
English, being well acquainted with his mother-tongue, 
highly to applaud their Majesties' ancestors for their 
religious zeal ; he then exhorted them to tread in their 
footsteps ; and afterwards, with eyes and hands uplifted to 
heaven, called <fa. them to suppress the heretical books of 
Erasmus, and to save the Church from the danger with 
which she was threatened. The same two persons who had 
.argued with him on the former occasion happened to be 
* Eras, Hermanno Bincliio. Op. torn. iii. p. 484, edit. Bas. 



218 lee's OPPOSITIOIN' TO HIM. 

standing near the King, one of whom said to him : " Pray, 
my lord, since you Avould instil these prejudices into the 
minds of princes, be kind enough to show what passages 
there are in the works of Erasmus from which the Church 
is to expect deadly heresies and dangerous schisms?" The 
Bishop promised to do so, and stated, amongst other charges 
against Erasmus, that he had taken away the article of the 
resurrection; "for Paul," he said, "in his Epistle to the 
Colossians," which he mistook for the first to the Corin- 
thians, writes thus : " Omnes qnidem resurgemus^ sed non 
om.nes immutabimur ;" but Erasmus, in the Greek, reads it 
thus : " Omnes quidem non dormiemus, sed omnes immuta- 
bimur." One of the friends of Erasmus, having shown him 
that this reading did not affect the doctrine of the resur- 
rection, and was the true reading of the ancient Fathers, and 
particularly St. Jerome, the Bishop admitted that this was 
the case, but that he had it from the Hebrew ; and repeated 
this error until it was manifest to all that he thought that 
St. Paul had written that Epistle in Hebrew. Then the 
King, in order to prevent the complete discomfiture of the 
Bishop, changed the subject of conversation.* 

But the most violent of the English opponents of Erasmus 
was Edward Lee, afterwards Archbishop of York. His 
patience was so tried by his slanders and opposition, 
that he said he wished that Lee were not an Englishman, 
since he was a disgrace to his country. He valued him- 
self on his patience, but it appears that he often lost it in 
his arguments with Lee. More chastised the "ignorant and 
obscure monk," for his presumption in opposing the great 
scholar and divine.t Erasmus was greatly exasperated at 
his treatment by a man who, though he held no public office 
by which he was required to attack him, and had not the 

" Eras. Hermanno Buscliio, Op. torn. iii. p. 485, edit. Bas. 
t Jortin's Life, Appendix, vol. ii. p. GS9. 



OXE OF THE CHAEGES OF THE MOIN'KS TEUE. 219 

learning which qualified him to do so, j^et often, disregard- 
ing the earnest entreaties of his friends, directed his en- 
venomed shafts against his character, and did not mind 
what he suffered, provided he could accomplish his ruin.'' 
The epitaph on his tomb in York Cathedral, in which he is 
described as a learned, good, and generous man, gives an 
incorrect idea of one whose conduct was, in many respects, 
highly blamable, and who showed in his intercourse 
wdth Erasmus, his ignorance and his want of that grace of 
charity which communicates to the human character its 
truest beauty, and stamps upon it its highest excellence. 

The charges brought against Erasmus were, as we have 
seen, absurd and frivolous. He felt, however, at times, very 
much indeed the attacks thus made upon him. f. Writing to 
one of his friends, he says : " I am not anxious to live for 
ever in the memory of my fellow-creatures, but still a good 
man ought not to neglect his reputation. The judgments 
of men, however, are various. How turbulent is the present 
age! How many dissonant voices are there in the same 
chorus ! so that whoever now wishes to become an author, 
cannot possibly avoid exposing himself to many assailants. 
.... If I had known what it is to possess a distinguished 
name, I should have used every effort to prevent any but 
my servants from knowing Erasmus, "t 

One charge, however, brought by the monks against 
Erasmus, was partly a just one, that he had prepared the 
way foiLuther. Erasimis, as they used to say, laid the egg^ 
and Luther hatched it. 

There can be no doubt that the examination of the works 
of the ancient Greeks, which, in consequence of the fall of 
Constantinople, were conveyed to Europe, was a most im- 
portant means of promoting the Eeformation. For the 

* Kniglit's Life, p. 289. 

t Eras. P. Tomicio, Op. torn. iii. p. 1093, echt. Bas. 



220 Erasmus's classical woeks. 

effect of the revival of the study of the immortal writers of 
antiquity was that the human mind was aroused from its 
slumber, and pushed its inquiries into that vast and com- 
plex system of error which the Koman Catholic Church had 
declared to be essential to the salvation of its followers. 
Noiv, as we have seen in our introductory chapter, classical 
students were to be found in various parts of Europe. Bat 
Erasmus had been greatly instrumental in promoting the 
love and study of the works of the ancient writers. I have 
already described his "Adages," which are a monument of 
his profound erudition, his amazing industry, and his 
extensive knov/ledge of classical authors. He had also 
translated almost the whole of Lucian, most of the moral 
works of Plutarch, some orations of Libanius, and several 
plays of Euripides into Latin, avowedl}^ for the purpose of 
perfecting himself in the Greek language. He also published 
afterwards editions of the works of Aristotle and Demos- 
thenes, Livy, Terence, Pliny, Cicero's "Offices," and his 
*' Tusculan Disputations," Q. Curtius, the minor historians, 
Seneca the philosopher, Suetonius, and some minor works. 
The last were chiefiy for the use of Dean Colet's school. 
I shall call attention hereafter to another remarkable 
work, the " Ciceronianus." These have, in consequence of 
the improvement in classical scholarship, long since given 
place to better editions. Scholars have, however, expressed 
their obligations to him, as well as their admiration of the 
amazing industry, the great genius, and the vast learning of 
a man who, though unaided by lexicons, commentaries, and 
annotations, and hindered in his work by the scarcity of 
books, the difficulty of procuring ancient manuscripts, the 
want of chronological tables, and other aids, was able to 
carry through the press voluminous works, the preparation 
and publication of which would, even now, when these and 
other appliances are available, and when a great improve- 



THE EEFORMATIOI^ PROMOTED BY HIS SCHOLARSHIP. 221 

ment has been effected in the art of printing, task the 
energies of the most diligent scholar of the age in which we 
live. 

But we mnst consider the purpose to which this scholar- 
ship was applied, in order that we may see how he prepared 
the way for the Reformation. The chapter on the "■ Novum 
Instrumentum," and the account of the ''Paraphrases," will 
serve to illustrate this part of our subject. No doubt the 
latter, by promoting the study of the Scriptures, aided the 
Reformers in their work. By publishing the New Testament 
in the original tongue, he enabled theologians to see the 
purity of their doctrine. He further imposed upon himself 
the herculean task of bringing out, one after another, 
editions of the early Fathers of the Church — a task which 
we may well contemplate with wonder, for it involved 
greater labour even than the publication of the works of the 
classical Avriters. He published the works of Jerome,. 
Hilary, Ambrose, Irenseus, St. Augustine, St. Chrysostom, 
part of St. Basil's works, some works of Lactantius and 
Epiphanius, Cyprian, the pseudo-Arnobius, some treatises 
of St. Athanasius, and others ; thus showing to the world 
that their doctrines agreed with those of the Reformers, 
that the Church of Rome had corrupted as well as mutilated 
the faith once delivered to the saints, and affording us the 
means of reforming our Church according to the Scriptural 
model of the earliest ages. 

But satire was the most formidable weapon wielded by 
Erasmus. We have seen how, in his "Praise of Folly," he 
used it against the Schoolmen. He has also shown the 
barrenness of their system in his more serious works. By 
these combined methods he did more than anyone else to 
emancipate the human mind from its bondage to the 
scholastic philosophy, and to prepare Europe for the 
teaching of the Gospels. He attacked also, with the same 



222 HIS WIT DIRECTED AGAINST THE CHURCH OF ROME. 

weapon, the vices, the follies, and the superstitions of the 
age in which he lived. In all probability, if he had con- 
demned them in a graver form, a cry of indignation would 
have rung through Europe, and he would have been called 
upon to expiate his offence in the dungeon or at the stake. 
But his sportive wit ensured his impunity. The authori- 
ties in Church and State, even though they might be fully 
sensible of the danger of his opinions, could not pliice under 
ban and anathema works which the world received with un- 
dissembled merriment. When in the " Praise of Folly " 
he ridiculed the ignorance, the absurdities, and the formalism 
of the monks, and inveighed against them on account of their 
encouragement of superstition, as well as their disregard of 
every social and relative obligation ; when in the same work, 
and in his Colloquies, two of which, given in former chapters, 
may serve as a specimen of the rest, he did not conceal his 
scorn for the superstitions of the age, almost every one of 
which he caused to pass in review before his readers ; when 
afterwards changing his playful wit for indignant satire, he 
assailed Popes, Monarchs, Cardinals, and Bishops, with his 
merciless raillery; we cannot fail to see that he must have pre- 
pared the way for that Eeformation of doctrine and manners 
which has been a blessing to generations then unborn. 

But we must consider also the opinions of Erasmus, if 
we would seeclearly how far the Reformers were indebted 
to him. Now I am quite willing to admit that he was a 
liasty writer, that he was occasionally guilty of inaccuracies, 
and that he may have given expression to some views which 
were not the result of his deliberate judgment. He wrote 
thus to his friend Eobert Aldridge, Bishop of Carlisle : 
^' The advice which you give me respecting the revision of 
my works is of no use. I am naturally extempore, and very 
little inclined to examine what I have written. And you 
know how difficult it is for an old man to fight against 



HIS CONDEMNATION OP THE DOCTRINES OF EOMANISM. 223 

nature."'-' But still I have no liesifcation in saying that he 

was firmly convinced that many of the doctrines of the 

Church of Eome were condemned alike by reason and by 

revelation. He ridiculed, for instance, in the " Praise of 

Folly " those who '' derive comfort from false ^Dardons, and 

indulgences, and who measure the spaces of purgatory as 

with an hour-glass ; who, having cast down a small piece of 

money, taken from that vast amount which they have 

gained unjustly, think that all the guilt of their life is 

purged away."t Lystrius had indeed in a note in an 

edition published about the time when Luther began his 

career, explained that Papal indulgences are not here 

referred to unless they be false. He had, however, made 

matters worse by adding immediately : " This one thing I 

know, that what Christ promised respecting the remission 

•of sins is more certain than what is promised by men, 

especially since this whole affair of indulgences is of recent 

date and invention. Finally a great many people, relying 

on these pardons, are encouraged in crime, and never think 

of changing their lives."J Take again what he says in that 

severe and powerful passage in which he describes the 

appearance of monks on the judgment-day :§ " Whence 

comes this new race of Jews? I acknowledge one law as really 

mine, of which I hear nothing. Formerly, when on earth, 

without a parable, I promised my Father's inheritance not to 

austerities, prayers, or fastings, but to faith, and the offices of 

charity. I do not acknowledge those who make much of their 

good deeds." Again he speaks of the folly of worshipping a 

little image marked with a coal on the wall, in the same 

manner as Christ himself. [| He had also, as we have seen 

in his Colloquies, derided the worship and adoration as well 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 893, edit. Bas. + See pages 81, 82. 

J See also Basle edition of 1676, cum commentariis Gul. Lystri, et 
figuris J. Holbenii. § See page 91. 11 See page 87. 



224 HIS COITDEMKATIO^^ OF THE DOCTEINES OF ROMANISM, 

of images as of relics. He thus spoke of the worship of 
the Virgin Mary and the Saints. " Some there are who have 
prayers addressed to them on all occasions, especially the 
Virgin Mar}^, to whom the common people attribute more 
power than they do to her Son. Now from these Saints, 
what, I say, do men ask, excepting those things which 
relate to folly f'^ In the " Shipwreck," while one addressed 
himself with loud cries to one Saint, one to another, there is 
one calm person shown as the only true Christian among 
them, who addressed himself to God alone. In a letter 
Avritten soon after Luther began his career, he openly 
declared that Eome had long since become Babylon ; that 
a very great Reformation was required ; that all pious men 
expressed with sighs their earnest desires for it ; and that 
Luther, when he began to preach, became the most 
popular man whom the world had ever seen, because men 
thought that he was honest and courageous, and that he 
had been raised up by God to apply a remedy to the evils 
which were the subject of complaint. t Here Erasmus 
follows the illustrious Dante and Petrarch, and many dis- 
tinguished men before them, in that identification of Eome 
with Babylon, which unquestionably did much to promote 
the Reformation. 

The Enchiridion is, as we have seen, directed against 
those who asserted that true religion consisted in the 
acceptance of scholastic dogmas, or the performance of 
outward ceremonies. In it he expresses, besides, some 
opinions which agree with those of 'the Reformers. He 
evidently thinks little of the worship of the image of Christ, 
of Saints, and of relics, but he thinks much of the imitation 
of their holy and blessed example.^ "No worship," he 
says, "is more acceptable to many than the attempt to 

* See page 82. 

t Eras. Jod. JoniB, op. torn iii. p. 550, edit. Bas. 

X Op, torn. V, p. 27, edit. Bas. 



EIS CONDEMNATIOlSr OF THE DOCTEINES OF ROMANISM. 225 

imitate lier humility ; none is more pleasing to the Saints 
than the laborious endeavour to exhibit in your own life a 
transcript of their virtues. If you adore the bones of Paul, 
buried in a chest, will you not show respect to the mind of* 
Paul, exhibited in his writins-s ?" Look asjain at the attack 
which he made on the monks. " I think nothing of your 
■vigils, your fastings, your silence, your prayers, and your other 
observances of the same description. I will not believe that 
a man can be in the Spirit, unless I see the fruits of the 
Spirit. Why should I not declare you to be in the flesh, 
when, after your exercises of this kind, which are almost 
worldly, I see in you still the works of the flesh ? I refer to 
your envy, greater than that of a woman ; to your anger 
and fierceness, like that of a soldier ; to your unappeasable 
love of strife ; to your railing accusations ; to your slander- 
ous tongue, which poisons like a viper's -, to your stubborn- 
ness, your slippery faith, your vanity, your lying, your 
flattery."* Look, too, at his condemnation of the distinc- 
tion drawn in the Church of Eome betAveen sins mortal and 
venial. " You must take care not to despise any one sin, 
as if it were of little consequence. In this matter many are 
deceiving themselves, so that while they freely indulge 
themselves in one or another vice, which every one looks 
upon as venial, they strongly condemn sins of another 
description. "t Consider also his exhortations to a diligent 
study of the Scriptures, as a means of victory in our spiri- 
tual warfare. " How, I_ ask, did Jesus Christ, our Head, 
conquer Satan ? Did He not, when he answered Him from 
Scripture, strike the forehead of His enemy, as David con- 
quered GoHath with stones taken from the brook 1''% 
Examine also the following observations on the performance 
of rites and ceremonies. " You think that a lighted taper 

* Op. torn. V. p. 30, edit. Bas. + Ibid. p. 47. Z Ibid. p. 10. 

15 



226 HIS CO^-DEMNATIOK OF THE DOCTRINES OF ROMANISM. 

is a sacrifice. But David calls the sacrifices of God a broken 
spirit. Of what use is it for the body to be covered with a 
holy cowl, when the soul wears a filthy garment ?" If you 
have a snow-white tunic, take care that the vestments of 
the inner man are white as snow. . c . . You tell me that you 
worship the wood of the cross. Follow much more the 
mystery of the 'cross. You fast and abstain from those 
things which do not pollute the man ; and yet you do not 
refrain from impure words which defile your own conscience, 
and the consciences of others. . . . You adorn a temple of 
stone. You have a reverence for sacred places. What 
matters all this, if the temple of your breast, whose wall 
Ezekiel pierced through, is profaned with the abominations 
of Egypt ? . . . . Can it avail you with your body to have gone- 
on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, when your mind within is- 
like Sodom, Egypt, or Babylon ? It is not a matter of much 
importance for you to place your feet in the footprints of 
Christ j but it is a matter of paramount importance for you 
to follow them with your afi'ections. If you think much of 
a visit to the sepulchre of our Lord, should you not think 
still more of acting out in your life the mystery of his. 
burial 1 . . . The more you love Christ, the more will you hate- 
your sins; for the hatred of, sin must follow the love of 
piety, as the shadow accompanies the body. I would rather 
that you should once hate your sins truly within, than ten 
times confess them in the language of abhorrence to a priest."* 
"When we read all these extracts, we must surely admit 
that there is some truth in those words, " Erasmus laid the 
egg, and Luther hatched it." 

Again, when we find him in his Commentary on Matthew 
xvi. 18, " On this rock I will build My Church," express- 
ing his surprise that any one should have so perverted these 

* Op. torn. v. pp. 32, 33, edit. Bas. 



THE EXTRAVAGANT POWER OP THE POPE COK-DEMNED. 227 

words as to apply tliem exclusively to the Roman Pontiff, 
to whom indeed they apply first of all, as the Head of the 
Christian Church, yet not to him only, but to all Chris- 
tians; when again we find him saying on Matt. xvii. 5, 
that " Christ is the only Teacher appointed by God, and 
that this authority has been committed to no Bishop, Pope, 
or Prince ;" when further we find him inveighing against 
pretended relics in a note on Matt, xxiii. 5, "for to 
be seen of men ;" animadverting on the royal palaces 
of St. Peter's vicar, when speaking of the lodging of Peter 
with one Simon a tanner, mentioned in Acts ix. 43 ; ex- 
pressing doubts in his notes whether marriage was a Sacra- 
ment, attacking the celibacy of the clergy, and expressing 
the wish in that noble passage already quoted from his 
"Paraclesis," that the Scriptures might be translated into all 
the languages in the world ; when further we find him saying 
in his " Spongia " against Hutten that he " allows the first 
place amongst Metropolitans to the Eoman Pontiffs, but that 
he has never defended the extravagant power which they 
have usurped for some centuries j" we must admit that he 
had done his best to shake to its foundation the structure 
of their spiritual and temporal dominion. 

I could easily bring forward numerous other passages from 
his writings of a similar tone and tendency. We might, how« 
ever, suppose that though Erasmus was thus outspoken in the 
expression of his opinion, his books would have a limited sale, 
and so he would be unable to influence public opinion in Eu- 
rope. But we shall find that the very contrary was the case. 
The sale of his works is a perfect marvel in the history of lite- 
rature. His opinions flew on the wings of the press through- 
out Europe. We should say that when we take into account 
that the number of readers in those days was a mere hand- 
ful when compared with the number at the present time, 
and that the resources of printing establishments were very 

15—2 



228 EXTIlAOEDII>rART SALE OP HIS WOEKS. 

different from what they now are, the sale of his works was 
far greater in proportion than the sale of those of the most 
popular author of the age in which we live. The "Praise 
of Folly" and the " Colloquies " were in every palace, in 
every house, in every school, in every monastery. A book- 
seller at Paris, on giving out that the latter work was pro- 
hibited, sold above 24,000 of one impression.* Both these 
works were translated into many of the languages of Europe. 
A Spanish friend informed Erasmus that in Spain his "Col- 
loquies" were flying through the hands of men and women. t 
The " Praise of Folly," in a few months after its publication, 
went through seven editions. In April, 1515, Rhenanus 
wrote to Erasmus to say that, out of an edition of 1800 of 
the " Praise of Folly," just printed by Froben, with notes 
by Lystrius, only sixty remained on hand.| After this 
edition the sale was very rapid, for the notes just referred 
to had made it intelligible to many who had not previously 
understood the object of the author. The monks, whose 
ignorance of Latin was so great that they could not under- 
stand the psalms which they read every day, now, when it 
was translated into modern languages, understood the dia- 
tribes against them, and vented their indignation upon 
Erasmus. Twenty-seven editions of this popular work were 
published during his life-time. 

His " Adages" also had an extraordinary sale. The first 
-edition, imperfect as we have seen, was printed at Paris in 
1500. Two more editions were soon afterwards brought out 
at Strasburg ; and a fourth was printed at Venice in 1508. 
Froben, without the knowledge of Erasmus, had, before his 
acquaintance with him, imitated it at Basle in 1513. In 
1517 Froben printed a sixth edition of this work, which 

* Knight's* 'Life," p. 203. 

+ Op. torn. iii. p. 1715, edit. Lugd. 

t Seebohm's "Oxford Reformers," p. 312. 



EXTRAOEDINARY SALE OP HIS WOEKS. 229 

had now become a thick folio vohime. The sale of this 
edition was, considering the size, very rapid; for it was 
followed in 1520 by a larger folio edition containing 800 
pages. We shall understand the full significance of the 
sale of this work with reference to the progress of the Eefor- 
mation, when we remember that it not only diffused that 
knowledge of classical literature which, as we have seen, 
greatly aided it, but that it also became the means of 
making known to the world, as I have shown^ the indig- 
nation which Erasmus felt when he sa^v the base conduct of 
the monarchs of Europe, and the vices, the follies, the im- 
postures, and the scandals of the Church and Court of Eome. 
I need not dwell upon the rapid sale of the ''Enchiridion," 
as it was mentioned in a former chapter. Two separate 
collections of some of his letters were printed by Froben in 
1518, and became the means of propagating through Europe 
the views expressed to his friends on the corruptions of the 
Church of Rome. I shall have occasion to refer to these 
letters hereafter. The letter to Volzius, already referred 
to, attached to the new edition of the "Enchiridion," called 
for in 1518, in which he censured, with impetuous acrimony, 
monks, Schoolmen, ecclesiastics, and princes, was eagerly 
read all over Europe, and passed, in a short time, through 
several editions. Another edition of the ''Enchiridion" 
itself was published at Cologne the next year. Many, even 
in bigoted Eoman Catholic countries, who would have been 
unwilling to read works written by the leading Reformers, 
quite devoured the works of Erasmus, and were ultimately 
led to promote the progress of the Reformation. Multi- 
tudes in Spain, where the Pope had more devoted adhe- 
rents than in any European country, eagerly, but uncon- 
sciously, imbibed the heretical poison contained in the 
"Enchiridion." "There is scarcely any one," writes Al- 
phonzo Fernandez to Erasmus, "in the Court of the 



230 HIS WOEKS READ BY E0MANIST3. 

Emperor, any citizen of our cities, or member of our cliurclies 
and convents, no not even an hotel or country inn, that has 
not a copy of the ' Enchiridion ' of Erasmus in Spanish. 
This short work has made the name of Erasmus a household 
word in circles where it was previously unknown and had 
not been heard of."* This letter was written on November 
27th, 1527. In quoting it, as well as referring to one or 
two other facts, I have a little departed from the proper 
order of events -, but I have found it necessary to do so in 
order that I may illustrate this part of our subject. Thus, 
then, he did the work of the Reformers in circles to which 
they could not have obtained access. The wit with which 
some of his works were seasoned, became like the honey 
which, as the poet says, nurses place on the edge of the 
vessel in order that children may be led to take the 
healing medicinal draught.t Many Eomanists, attracted 
in this manner — many also who, not caring for the wit, read 
his works on account of the learning and reputation of the 
author, when they would not have read those of a leading 
Reformer — learnt from him the errors of the Church of 
Eome, and became afterwards the most zealous in conveying 
a knowledge of them to others. Thus Erasmus promoted 
the progress of the Reformation throughout the Continent of 
Europe. 

"■^ Life and Writings of " Juan de Valdez," by Benjamin Wififen, 
London, Quaritch, 1865, p. 4L 

t Cosi all'egro fanciul porgiamo aspersi 
Di soave licor gli orli del vaso, 
Succhi amari ingannato intanto ei beve, 
E dair inganno suo vita riceve. 

Tasso, " Gerusalemme Liberata," can. i. s. 3. 



OHAKLES; EIXG OF SPAHn, ELECTED EilPEKOK. 231 



CHAPTER IX. 

GRADE AL ALIENTATIOX FPtO^I THE REFORMERS. — TREATISE 
OX FREE-^VJLL AXD COLLOQUIES. — (A.D. 1519 — 1521.) 

Ox January 12, 1519, tlie Emperor Maximilian died. This 
was an important event in its bearing upon the history of 
the Eeformation. Charles, King of Spain, and Francis I. 
of France, were candidates for tlie vacant dignity. Leo X. 
objected to the election of either of them. He thought that 
Charles, as Iviug of Spain and Xaples, and . master of the 
new world, and Francis as King of France and Duke of 
jNIilan, would acquire a degree of power prejudicial to the 
independence of the Eoman see, and to the liberties of 
Europe. As he was anxious through the influence of Fre- 
deric, the Elector of Saxony, in the Electoral college to pre- 
vent the election of either of them, he resolved to suspend 
all proceedings against Luther. 

Xow, every one acquainted with the history of the period 
is aware that the crown was first offered to Frederic. He, 
however, declined it because he thought that he had not 
sufficient power to ensure the safety of Germany ; and 
recommended the electors to appoint Charles, as his here- 
ditary dominions would constitute a barrier against the 
threatened invasion from Turkey, and as he possessed a 
numerous army which would enable him to beat back the 
Turkish hordes. The result was that Charles was unani- 



ZoZ MAGKAIsriMOUS CONDUCT OP THE ELECTOE. 

mously elected. Erasmus, writing to Bishop Fisher, de- 
scribes this magnanimous conduct of the Elector. " Charles 
never would have borne the imperial title if it had not been 
declined by Frederic, whose glory in refusing the honour 
was greater than if he had accepted it. In the same noble 
spirit he firmly refused the 30,000 florins offered him by 
our people" (the agents of Charles). " When he was urged 
at least to allow 10,000 florins to be given to his ser- 
vants, ' They may take them,' he said, ' if they like, 
but no one shall rem^ain my servant another day who 
accepts a single piece of gold !' The next day" (continued 
Erasmus) "he took l;orse and departed, lest they should con- 
tinue to worry him. This was related to me as an entirely 
trustworthy statement by the Bishop of Liege, who was 
present at the Imperial Diet."'" 

Thus, then, Charles was called to preside over the des- 
tinies of Germany. Very soon after his election we find 
him courting the alliance of the Pope, as a means of enabling 
him to stay his rival Francis I. in his onward career of 
ambition. The former was at first unwilling to aid either 
of these monarchs in the prosecution of their schemes. At 
length he determined to make common cause with Charles. 
He thought that when he had, by his assistance, humbled 
Francis, he might expel him also from the soil of Italy. 
Charles had, with the view of securing the alliance of the- 
Pope, determined on sacrificing Luther to his vengeance. 
The subject of the condemnation of Luther was now debated 
in the Papal conclave. The Pope was at first disposed to 
make some concessions to him, because he thought that he 
would thus be induced to desist from lifting up his voice 
against the corruptions of the Church. At length, overcome 
by the importunity of others, he issued, on June 15th, 1520, 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 511, edit. Lugd. 



EEASMUS CONDEMNS THE BULL AGAINST LUTHEK. 233 

that famous Bull against Luther, which directed his works 
to be given to the flames, and himself and his adherents to 
be seized and to be brought to Eome. 

Erasmus, soon after this time, wrote a letter to No^doma- 
gus with reference to this Bull : " I fear," he says, " for the 
unfortunate Luther; so violent is the conspiracy, and so 
strongly have the Pope and princes been instigated against 
him. Would to God he had followed my advice, and had 
abstained from odious and seditious proceedings. He would 
then have done more good, and exposed himself to less 
hatred. It would be no great matter that one man should 
perish ; but if the monks have the upper hand they will 
destroy literature. They begin again to attack Eeuchlin only 
because they hate Luther." * 

Erasmus wrote a letter soon after this time to his friend,. 
Cardinal Campegius, in which he expressed his disapproba- 
tion of this Bull. " All the world," he says, " have accounted 
Leo's Bull too severe, and not reconcilable with the mild 
temper of that Pontiff." The same letter also contains the 
following remarkable declaration respecting Luther, ^' I 
have not myself read more than twelve pages of his works, 
and those hastily, but even in that hasty reading I have 
discerned great natural talents, and a singular faculty for 
explaining the Holy Scriptures. I have heard excellent 
men, equally remarkable for their learning and their piety, 
congratulate themselves on having been made acquainted 
with his books. I observed that in proportion as they 
were of blameless character, and the more nearly they 
approached to evangelical purity, the less hostile they were 
to him. His moral character was highly praised by some 
who could not endure his doctrine. As to his spirit, which 
God alone can with certainty judge, I choose rather to think 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 414, edit. Bas. 



234 HIS DETEEMINATION TO ADHERE TO EOME. 

too favourably, than too badly of it. To tell the truth, the 
Christian world has long been weary of those teachers who 
attach too much importance to trifling inventions and hu- 
man constitutions, and thirsts after the pure and living 
water drawn from the sources of the Apostles and Evangel- 
ists. Luther seemed to me well fitted by nature for this 
work, and inflamed with zeal for the prosecution of it. 
Thus far I have favoured Luther : I have favoured the good 
which I saw, or fancied that I saw, in him." 

But though he thus condemned the Pope's Bull, and 
approved of Luther, he was still determined to adhere to 
the See of Rome. " What have I to do with Luther, or what 
have I to expect from, him, that I should join him to oppose 
the Church of Eome which is a true part of the Church 
Catholic, or to oppose the Eoman Pontiff, who is the Head 
of the Catholic Church; I who should be unwilling to 
resist the Bishop of my own diocese ? I am not so impious 
as to dissent from the Church, or so ungrateful as to oppose 
Leo, from whom I have received so many favours, and by 
whom I have been treated with so much indulgence." At 
the same time, notwithstanding these expressions, he con- 
cludes his letter with expressing his strong disapprobation 
of the severity of Leo, as well as of the vehemence of the 
German Reformers.'" 

Erasmus here comes forward as a peacemaker between the 
contending parties. But the advice which he gives was not 
likely to be followed by either of tliem. The Roman 
Catholics would not be induced by his favourable report of 
Luther to give him a fair hearing ; for they considered him 
as a dangerous heretic, whose success would be immediately 
followed by the subversion of that system from which they 
derived immense pecuniary advantage. Erasmus should 

■^ Op. torn. iii. p. 444, edit. Bas. 



HIS EPFOHTS AS A PEACE^ylAKER OF XO AVAIL. ZoO 

have seen that it was absurd to suppose that the authorities 
of the Church of Rome would have listened to the advice 
of an insignificant monk. They might just as well be ex- 
pected to deal leniently with Luther, as the worst tyrant to 
become a paragon of clemency, and to refrain from indulg- 
ing in the excesses of arbitrary power. Xot satisfied with 
assailing the abuses and corruptions of the Church of Eome, 
he had recently attacked the Pontificate itself. '' It is 
horrible," he said^ " to see a man calling himself the Vicar 
of Jesus Christ, displaying a magnificence such as no Em- 
peror ever equals. Is this being like the poor Jesus or the 
humble St. Peter? AYe are told that he is the lord of the 
world. But Christ, whose Yicar he boasts of being, has 
said, ' My kingdom is not of this world.' And shall the 
kingdom of a Yicar extend beyond that of his Lord?"'" 
Thus, then, the Pope would see the real nature of the con- 
test between himself and Luther. He must resign that 
temporal power which he believed to have been transmitted 
to him from the earliest ages for the government of the 
Church. Erasmus, in his excessive desire for peace, must 
have forgotten the motives which usually influence the con- 
duct of our fellow-creatures, or he could not have supposed 
that any consideration would have induced Eome to refrain 
from raising her hand for the purpose of striking a terrible 
blow at the bold man who had thus dared to assail the struc- 
ture of her temporal domination. On the other hand, if 
Luther had recanted when the Pope fulminated his anathe- 
mas against him, he would have lost the fruit of all the 
successes which he had hitherto obtained ; and, if he per- 
severed, he must expose himself to the charge of sedition 
and turbulence. He felt that if he did not lift up his voice 
against the corruptions of the Church of Eome, he would 

* Lutlier, 0pp. lib. xvii. p. 457. 



236 BurvmNG of the papal bull by luthee. 

become a traitor to the King of kings. Erasmus, by bis 
condemnation of their vehemence, gave great offence to the 
German Keformers. Though he declared that he would 
remain faithful in his allegiance to the Pope, he found that 
his sentiments were as unpopular as those of Luther with 
the members of the Church of Eome. They dealt tenderly 
with him, and did not anathematize him, notwithstanding 
his seeming agreement with Luther, and his unsparing cen- 
sure of their vices and corruptions, because they thought 
that if they drove him to extremities he would openly 
throw himself into the camp of the Reformers, and lend 
them the aid of his herculean strength in making a deadly 
onset on the great Papal army. 

Luther, not long after the issuing of the Bull, declared by 
a public act his separation from the Church of Rome. A 
fire was kindled at the east gate of Wittemberg, near the 
holy cross, into which, in the presence of a large concourse 
of the doctors and students of the University, he threw the 
Canon Law, the Decretals of the Popes, and the Papal Bull. 
Thus, then, having burnt his ships on the shore, he showed 
that his only hope was in advancing against the enemy. 

The question now universally discussed was whether 
Frederic would permit the execution of the Bull within his 
territories. He was now at Aix-la-Chapelle, to which place 
he had gone for the purpose of assisting in placing on the 
brows of the youthful Charles the diadem of the Holy 
Eoman Empire. Immediately after the ceremony, the 
Emperor, with the princes, ministers, and ambassadors, went 
to Cologne. Aleander and Carracioli were sent to him as 
Papal nuncios, avowedly for the purpose of congratulating 
him on his accession, but really to urge him to do his 
utmost to suppress the Reformation. The former was not, 
as Luther and others supposed, of Jewish extraction, but 
was of an ancient race. Alexander VI. had appointed him 



THE EMPEROR URGED TO EXECUTE THE BULL. 23T 

secretary to his son, that monster in human shape, Ctesar 
Eorgia. Erasmus, who Avas acquainted with him, says of 
him, "xVleander lived at Venice as a base epicurean, and 
in high dignities."* Luther in a diatribe against him, 
which is a good specimen of his polemic style, says of him, 
*' He is soon provoked, and passionate even to frenzy ; 
insatiably covetous, and equally lustful ; arrogant to the 
last degree, and eaten up with pride and vanity." All, 
however, admit that he was vehement, indefatigable, and 
devoted to the interests of the Papacy. 

Soon after his arrival he presented to Charles the Papal 
Bull. In doing so he said, '• The Pope knows how to bring 
three grammarians to good beha\iour." He alluded to 
Luther, Melanchthon, and Erasmus. Erasmus, who was at 
this time staying at the house of Count Xuenar, the provost 
of Cologne, was at the audience. He at first proposed to 
the Emperor the burning of Luther's books and papers ; but 
he very soon disclosed his real object_, and asked for an 
edict directed against his person. The Emperor hesitated 
to comply with this demand. He knew that in consequence 
of the delay in the first instance to take measures against him, 
and the opportunity which he had possessed of disseminat- 
ing his opinions during the vacancy in the Empire, when its 
affairs were administered by his friend, the Elector of Saxony, 
a powerfid party had rallied round the Eeformer which it 
would be dangerous to offend. He told Aleander that he 
must ask the opinion of the Elector. Accordingly Aleander 
went to him. In his usual impetuous manner, interrupting 
•Carracioh, who wanted by mildness and ilattery to work 
upon the Elector, he required him to burn his wiitings, and 
to deliver him up as a prisoner to the Pope.f Frederic at 
first hesitated. Shall he who, animated by the spirit of the 

* Jortin's ''Life vol. i. p. 546. + Pallaviciui, p. SO. 



238 THE ELECTOE DISSUADED PEOM EORSAE:mG LUTHEE. 

Crusaders, had visited the Holy Sepulchre, shall he who had 
always been an ardent supporter of the authority of the Pope, 
become a rebel against him, and forfeit his reputation for 
piety, and zeal on behalf of the Church 1 He asked time to 
deliberate. He was now urged by his nephew, John 
Frederick, by Spalatin, who has left us an account of these 
transactions, and by his other counsellors, not to abandon 
Luther. At length he made up his mind on the subject. 
For a short time he had hesitated ; but the love of truth 
and justice finally prevailed. His counsellors, on the 4th 
of November, in compliance with instructions which they 
had received from the Elector, told Aleander that no one 
had shown him that Luther's writings had been refuted, 
and ought to be cast into the fire, and required a safe con- 
duct that he might appear before learned and impartial 
judges. Aleander, on hearing this reply, so different 
from that which he expected, as he thought that the Elector 
would be afraid of the danger to which he would be ex- 
posed in the event of his refusal, asked time to deliberate. 
When he was again admitted to the presence of the counsel- 
lors, on finding that all his efforts to shake their determina- 
tion were in vain, he said, in a tone of affected indifference : 
" That the Pope did not care to soil his hands with the 
blood of the wretch, but that he should certainly execute 
the Bull, and burn his writings." 

Erasmus was, as I have said, at this time, at Cologne. 
He had been summoned to the city by princes who wished 
to have his advice on various important matters which were ' 
to come under deliberation. The Elector, aware that great 
weight would be attached to his opinion, sent to ask him to 
pay him a visit, that he might consult with him on the 
present crisis. The importance of that interview cannot 
well be exaggerated. Upon its result depended the safety 
of Luther, and perhaps the progress of the Keformation in 



INTERVIEW OF EEASMUS WITH THE ELECTOE. 239 

Germany. The Eeformers trembled for the consequences. 
They thought that the Elector would be guided by the 
opinion of Erasmus ; and they judged from his vacillating 
temper, and from his known anxiety to stand well with the 
Eulers of the Church, that he would give him such advice 
as would lead him to deliver Luther up to those who were 
thirsting for his blood. Spalatin, who was present, has 
given us the following description of the conference :'-' " It 
took place in December. Erasmus, the Prince, and Spalatin 
conversed together, standing by the fire-side. The Elector 
proposed to Erasmus that he should speak in Dutch, 
which was liis native language ; but Erasmus chose rather 
to speak Latin. The Elector, though he understood that 
language, conversed with him through Spalatin. He said 
to him at ouce : ' What is your opinion of Luther f" " Eras- 
mus," says Spalatin, " surprised at so direct a question, stood 
musing, and delayed to give him an answer ; while Frederic, 
as his custom was, when he was discoursing earnestly with 
any one, gave him a searching look. The latter said at 
length, in a half-joking tone : ' Luther has been guilty of 
two crimes ; he has attacked the crown of the Popes, and 
the bellies of the monks.' The Elector smiled j but, at the 
same time, gave Erasmus to understand that he spoke 
seriously. The former then told him very plainly that good 
men and lovers of the Gospel had taken the least offence at 
Luther ; that they were much displeased at the cruelty of 
the Bull, so unworthy of the mild and merciful Vicar of 
Jesus Christ ; that the origin of the whole dispute was to 
be found in the monks and their hatred for literature ; that 
two Universities had condemned Luther, but had not con- 
futed him ; that his request was very reasonable to be tried 
by impartial judges ; that the Pope was more anxious about 

* Spalatin, Hist. M.S. in Seckenclorf, p. 291. 



240 TESTIMONY OF EEASMUS IN FAVOUR OF LUTHEU. 

his own glory than the honour of Jesus Christ ; that the trea- 
tises hitherto written against Luther were condemned even 
by those who differed from him ; that the world was now 
inflamed with a great love for evangelical truth, and that 
this love ought not to be discouraged ; and that it would 
be very improper for Charles to begin his reign with acts 
of severity and violence." Spalatin informs us that he was 
rejoiced at the result of this interview. He accompanied 
the illustrious scholar to his lodgings, where he at once 
committed to writing the substance of what he had said to 
the Elector, and gave it to Spalatin. No sooner had he 
done so, than he endeavoured to induce Spalatin to return 
the manuscript. He was afraid that the nuncio would see 
it, and that it would lower him in the good opinion of the 
Papal party. Spalatin, however, at once refused compliance 
with his request. 

The fears just referred to were not without foundation. 
All zealous Eomanists never forgave him his conduct at 
Cologne. They felt that he had inflicted a grievous in- 
jury on their cause at a most important crisis of the 
world's history. Pallavicini, the Eoman Catholic historian, 
relates that he held the Pope's Bull to be a forgery, 
and that he would not be convinced of the contrary 
till Aleander allowed him to examine itj that he went 
about, like Nicodemus, by night, to the Emperor and his 
counsellors, endeavouring to alienate their affections from 
the Pope and Aleander, telling them that the Bull had 
been extorted, contrary to the Pope's inclinations, by the 
artifices of evil disposed persons, and that in a conversation 
with Aleander, he had expressed a hope that the order for 
the burning of Luther's books might be rescinded.-'^ These, 
however, were reports probably circulated by Aleander, 

* Pallavicini, vol. i. p. 87. 



THE LETTERS OF ERASMUS. 241 

for the purpose of lowering Erasmus in the estimation of the 
Boman Catholic party. Thus Erasmus rendered a service 
to the Reformers at this most important juncture. We 
know that the Elector, fortified by his opinion, advocated 
Luther's cause very warmly with the Emperor ; and that he 
was more confirmed in his determination not to deliver 
an innocent man into the hands of his merciless ad- 
versaries. 

Erasmus, in the midst of the events just referred to, 
published an edition of his letters. The volume containing 
them was very much valued by all who wished to become 
intimately acquainted with the great scholar. So high was 
the place which he occupied in the republic of letters, that 
learned men became anxious, not only to see the treasures 
which he had drawn from the great store-house of classical 
or theological antiquity, but also to know all that he said in 
a jesting or serious manner in his private letters to his 
friends. We are here admitted to the contemplation of his 
inner life. As he was of a very communicative disposition, 
and could not, if the matter were one in which he took a 
deep interest, conceal his real sentiments from his friends, 
and sometimes even from his enemies, the springs of his 
actions, which would otherwise have been hidden, his hopes 
and his fears, his faults, his follies, and his virtues, are here 
unveiled to us. We seem, as we read the letters, extracts 
from which have been given, to have Erasmus once 
more before us on the stage of life ; to l^^ar the relation of 
his trials and perplexities j to be sitting with him in the 
midst of More's happy family ; to hear his altercation with 
the custom-house officers ; and to listen to him as in an 
emphatic tone,* and with lively gestures, he gives us his 
views on religious questions, or on those great events which 
were shaking to their foundation the kingdoms of the earth. 
They are perhaps the most interesting letters that have ever 

16 



242 THE LETTERS OP ERASMUS. 

been published. They are remarkable for their easy style- 
and their learning, and form a most interesting biogra- 
phical sketch of Erasmus. 

The wonder is that when he decided on the publication 
of his letters, he should have thrown them confusedly 
together, without any regard to dates, or the places from 
which they are written, which are often incorrectly given. 
Many have no date assigned to them. The pleasure of 
reading them, is diminished when we find in them the events 
of boyhood succeeding those of old age ; when we come to 
the end of a particular narration before we have heard the 
beginning ; when we see events mingled together without 
any regard to chronology, so that it is very difficult to 
obtain from them a connected account of his life. Attempts 
have been made to remedy this evil, and to extract order 
from confusion, but only with partial success. In a letter 
to his friend Ehenanus, which stands first in the Basle 
edition of 1540, he gave the following reasons for the 
publication of them : — * 

He said that this matter had caused him much vexation. 
As he found that incorrect collections of them had been 
made even when he was in Italy, he thought it better ta 
give an edition of them himself than to leave it to others. 
He at the same time protested that it never was his inten- 
tion to publish them. He added that, as he had spoken 
freely in those letters on many important points, he could 
not avoid giving offence. The monks, especially, who were 
enemies to literature, condemned them strongly ; and when 
the Lutheran contentions began, they were still more cen- 
sured than before, and accused of favouring Lutheranism, 
«:t a time when it was neither safe to speak, nor safe to keep 
silence. Then he said that he would have suppressed them, 
but that Froben would not give his consent. He even de- 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1, edit. Bas. 



ERASMUS DISLIKED BY THE REFORMERS. 243 

sired Rhenanus to pay Froben his expenses, and to witli- 
draw the copies. He afterwards quoted the lines of Horace 
having reference to the danger of the publication of an 
account of contemporary events : 

"Periculosae plenum opus alese 

Tractas, et inceclis per ignes 

Suppositos cineri doloso."* 

Soon after this time Erasmus began to be an object of 
dislike and suspicion to Luther and his associates. The 
more violent among them were very angry with him be- 
cause he seemed to them to be continually endeavouring to 
reconcile what they considered to be irreconcilable j because 
he was continually advancing half-way to meet them, and 
afterwards retiring towards the camp of their foes. The 
fate which had befallen Luther had only confirmed Erasmus 
in his determination not to compromise his safety, or to in- 
jure his prospects in life, by openly making common cause 
with him. Luther had just stood at Worms before one of the 
most august tribunals which had ever been summoned to 
sit in judgment on human offenders. He had, indeed, gone 
forth unscathed from that regal assembly, after having de- 
clared his determination not to retract one of his opinions. 
His departure was, however, immediately followed by a 
sentence directing the seizure of himself and his adherents 
after his safe conduct had expired. Afterwards his friend, 
the Elector, apprehensive of the consequences, directed him 
to be carried off and concealed in the castle of Wartburg, 
which is buried in the gloomy recesses of the forests of 
Thuringia. Erasmus hereupon -wrote a letter to his friend 
Jodocus Jonas, a Lutheran, in which, after having deplored 
the lot of Luther and his associates, and ascribed it to their 
want of moderation, he derived from it an argument for the 
course which he still intended to pursue. He said, " If 

* Hor. lib. ii. carm. 1. 1. 6—S. 

16—2 



244 TIME-SERVIKG RECOMMENDED BY ERASMUS. 

our rulers require unreasonable tilings, we must submit, 
lest worse tilings ensue. If the present age cannot receive 
the whole Gospel of Jesus Christ, it is something to preach 
it in part, and as far as possible. Above all things we 
should avoid a schism, which is dangerous to all good men. 
There is a certain pious craft, and innocent time-serving, 
to which, however, we must have recourse, so as not to be- 
tray the cause of religion."* But if Luther and his fol- 
lowers had been moderate, and had spoken in the winning 
accents of conciliation, they would have been equally un- 
successful in influencing the Court of Eome, for it was op- 
posed to their doctrine ; and if, apprehensive of a worse 
state of things, they had submitted to arbitrary will, had 
been time-serving, and had preached the Gospel in part, 
they must have run into error, and assented to falsehood ; 
the light just kindled would have been extinguished ; and 
Europe would have crouched beneath the iron yoke of the 
oppressor. While, however, we deplore his infirmity of 
purpose, we think that much may be said to excuse or ex- 
tenuate the conduct of Erasmus; and we cannot fail to 
sympathize with one who thus wrote to Bilibald Pirck- 
heimer : " We see our weakness, or rather our misery. 
We see an age abounding in monsters and prodigies, so that 
I know not what part to take ; only this I know, that my 
conscience has confidence before the Lord Jesus Christ, who 
is my Judge. Those who are the Pope's agents draw the 
chains of ancient tyranny very close. They seem disposed 
rather to add to than to diminish our burdens. On the 
other hand they who in the name of Luther profess to de- 
fend evangelical liberty, act in a spirit which I do not under- 
stand j at least, many persons join them whom I should 
not like for coadjutors if I were concerned in the matter. 
They who are of a licentious temper find occasion to indulge 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 550, edit. Bas. 



ERASMUS LIBELLED. 245 

it^from the Lutheran writings. . . . The authority of Bulls is 
weighty, the ordinances of the Emperor still more so, but 
will they change the heart ?"'" 

We can easily imagine that language like this, addressed 
to leading members of the Lutheran party and to others, 
would not lessen the feelings of exasperation with which 
they regarded him. They had hoped that they should pre- 
vent him from aiding their opponents in fighting their bat- 
tles, and that his powerful arm might assist them in mowing- 
down, like the bearded grain, the hosts confederate against 
them. But hitherto, as I have said, they had been dis- 
appointed in their expectations. Irritated by his conduct, 
they began to libel him as an apostate, as a man who might 
be hired for a morsel of bread for any purpose, and who 
was ever ready to pay court to Popes, Bishops, and Cardinals, 
in order that he might accomplish his own selfish and 
worldly purposes. We cannot wonder that a man who had 
hitherto heard only the language of commendation and 
flattery, and that, too, from the highest of this world's 
potentates, should have been inflamed Avith anger when he 
heard the opprobrious epithets now applied to him. Ac- 
cordingly he soon ceased any longer to be on good terms 
with the Lutherans, and wrote very bitterly against them. 
" They were men of a seditious mind ; some of them 
feared neither God nor man, insomuch that Luther and 
Melancthon judged it necessary to write against them." 
*' In the Lutheran party are persons who are influenced by a 
spirit widely different from that of the Gospel." This hos- 
tility was at first confined within the limits of epistolary 
correspondence. At length the two parties came to open 
warfare. The quarrel between Hutten and Erasmus will 
serve to show the unhappy spirit with which they were 
animated. 

* Op, torn. iii. p. 707, edit. Lugd. 



246 ULEICH VON EUTTEInT. 

Ulrich von Hutten was of an ancient family in Franconia, 
a kniglit of the German Empire, a soldier, brave in war, but 
much given to personal quarrels. He had some good quali- 
ties, among which may be mentioned especially a profound 
contempt for the religion of the monks and Schoolmen, 
whom he constantly assailed with his pen, and attacked with 
satire and invective. He was a dauntless and turbulent 
man, who delighted on every opportunity to gird on his 
sword and to plunge into the thick of the battle. His moral 
character was not blameless. He was in the early part of 
his life at Cologne, where he studied the modern languages 
and poetry. There was a time when Erasmus described 
him as " the most eloquent of knights, the most bellicose 
of orators, of a nature the most frank and open, deserving 
the love of all good men." 

Hutten has been ascertained to be the author of a re- 
markable work, called, " The Letters of Obscure Men," 
which, on their first appearance, caused an astonishing sen- 
sation. " More," says a recent writer, " was effected by 
satire, which, like a thunderbolt out of a fair sky, came 
down unexpectedly and crushingly on the bands of the 
lovers of darkness, and completed their moral death in 
Europe, than by all the speculative controversial writings, 
and all the decrees of the powerful. Such were the far- 
famed ' Letters of Obscure Men.' "* 

Erasmus taught Hutten and others the power of this 
terrible weapon. The letters purport to be written to Ortu- 
inus Gratius, the head of the theological faculty in Cologne, 
by his former pupils. They are purposely written in exe- 
crable Latin, and contain the grossest blunders. The most 
absurd arguments are adviinced in them for ignorance and 
darkness, -and even for the grossest immorality. Erasmus 
appears in them in such a manner as to show his bitter hatred 
* Miincli. Preface to " Epistolai OLsciirorum Virorum." 



ULEICH VON HUTTEN". 247 

of the monks. They had a rapid sale throughout Europe. 
Hutten published other works. Having pointed his shafts 
during a visit to Kome, he directed them against her from 
the Court of the Archbishop of Maintz. Compelled by this 
publication to depart from his present home, he repaired to 
the Court of the Emperor Charles V.j but on finding that 
the Pope had directed the latter to seize him, and send him 
to Rome, he took refuge in the castle of Ebernburg, where 
Francis of Sickingen offered a home to all who had pro- 
voked the vengeance of the Head of the Church. Here he 
composed those remarkable works, the perusal of which had 
the effect of confirming all orders of the people in their de- 
termination to break the bonds of Eome, and to contend 
earnestly for the blessings of liberty and independence. 
Sickingen has been described as the mirror of chivalry. 
He was judged worthy by his contemporaries even to wear 
the imperial crown. He was the last of that race of knights 
whose swords were ever starting from their scabbards to 
smite asunder the chains of the oppressor. But unlike his 
mail-clad ancestors, he was a votary of the Muses. Even 
amid the din of warfare, he would find time to devote him- 
self to the peaceful pursuits of literature and science. 

Hutten, during his residence in Ebernburg, instructed 
him in those truths which it was the object of Luther to 
propagate through Europe. He now determined to promote 
in his own way the cause of the Reformation ; to aid Hutten, 
by force of arms, in the realization of a vision of a golden 
age, continually floating before him, of which he had origi- 
nally intended Charles V. to be the hero ; to make Germany, 
like Judaea of old, the centre from which a Christian consti- 
tution and a Christian spirit were to go forth through the 
length and breadth of the habitable world. In the prose- 
cution of this object, he made an unsuccessful attack on the 
Archbishop of Treves and other potentates. In the follow- 



248 ■ HUTTEN AT BASLE. 

ing spriDg, he was besieged by them in his castle of Land- 
stein. The modern artillery soon battered down the time- 
worn walls and the venerable towers of a feudal structure, 
round which its echoes had never before rolled. Chivalry, 
in its death-pangs, fought its last battle in defence of the 
Eeformation. Sickingen was mortally wounded, and the 
bodies of his feudal retainers were buried beneath the ruins 
of the castle. 

Hutten, finding that all his hopes of moral and political 
regeneration, according to his own ideas, were buried in the 
grave of his heroic friend, determined to withdraw, for a 
time at least, from the world's high stage. Sick in body, 
and sick in soul, an outlaw, under the ban of the Pope and 
the Empire, he arrived at Basle, where he immediately 
sought an interview with Erasmus. He had written in a 
tone of banter to him in 1520, had treated him as an 
apostate, and had endeavoured to induce him to stand in 
the front of the battle with the Church of Eome.* No two 
natures could be conceived to be more opposed to each 
other than those of Erasmus and Hutten. The one was 
bold, rough, and disputatious, ready to strike down every 
one who stood in his path, ready to do and dare anything 
to advance the cause of the Eeformation; the other was 
timid and irresolute, a man of polished and gentle manners, 
who was ready to sacrifice everything rather than lose his 
place in the good opinion of the world, and who had a 
religious horror of controversy. He says of himself that, 
by a kind of natural instinct, he "so abhorred all sorts of 
quarrels, that, if he had a large estate to defend at law, he 
would sooner lose it than litigate it."t As their principles 
of action were thus totally different, it could not be 
supposed that they could be friends. We need not be 

* Dr. Strauss's Life of Hutten. 
t Jortin's "Life," vol. i. p. 315. 



HUTTEN EXASPEEATED AGAINST EEASMUS. 249 

surprised, therefore, to hear that Erasmus determined if 
possible not to see him, and that he sent a young man 
named Eppendorf with a message to the effect that he 
would rather not do so. The truth was, that as Hutten 
had made himself obnoxious to the Pope and the ruling 
powers, he was, with his usual timidity, afraid that he 
should compromise himself with them, if he held the least 
intercourse with him. 

On hearing a few days afterwards from Eppendorf 
that Hutten was not offended at his refusal, but wished, as 
he thought, to have some conversation with him, Erasmus 
told him to say that he would call on him if he could 
only bear the heat of his stove ; but that if Hutten could 
bear the cold of his room, he would see him at his own 
house, and was ready to talk to him till he was tired. 
Eppendorf proved a false friend. He never delivered this 
message, and did his best to exasperate Hutten against 
Erasmus. During his stay they never met. After a short 
time he was requested by the magistracy of Basle to leave 
the city. 

Hutten withdrew, meditating a horrible revenge. His 
anger was increased by the publication of a lette'' soon 
afterwards from Erasmus, which, as he did not know what 
had passed between him and Eppendorf, appeared to him 
to give an incorrect account of the circumstances connected 
with the proposed interview, and which led him to the con- 
clusion that he intended to abandon the cause of the 
Beformation. The friends of Erasmus, hearing that Hutten 
intended to publish a book against him, endeavoured to 
dissuade him from his purpose ; and Erasmus himself wrote 
a letter to him, stating his reasons for declining to see him. 
But Hutten would not listen to persuasion. A violent book 
soon issued from the press, in which he brought many charges, 
against him, the most serious of which were that he had. 



250 " SPOIfGIA " OF ERASMUS. 

ceased to advocate the Eeformation, and that he had been 
guilty of a base subserviency to the Court of Rome. He 
expressed his belief that, in taking this course, he had been 
influenced by the love of fame, by bribes, and by the fear of 
persecution. 

Erasmus soon answered him in a tract called " Spongia,'' 
which he wrote in six days, full of bitter invective and 
terrible satire, designed to wipe off the splashes which he 
had received from him.* I wish that we could forget 
that he had published a work, in which, by reviling him, he 
has shown a disregard of one of the plainest precepts of the 
Gospel. Having disposed of the minor charges against 
himself, and having given his own version of his reasons for 
declining to see him, he vindicated himself from the most 
serious, that he had abandoned the cause of the Eeformation. 
He stated that he had never pledged himself to accept what 
Luther had written, or would write hereafter ; that he had 
never, as Hutten asserted, given up all his other studies to 
attack him j that he had never approved of the tyranny, 
rapacity, and vices of the Court of Rome ; that he had 
strongly condemned the sale of indulgences; that his 
opinion about ecclesiastics was evident from many passages 
in his works ; that it was utterly untrue that he was pre- 
paring to join the victorious party; and that he only 
wanted leisure to do good according to his opportunities 
and abilities. He also gave his own view of the Papal 
Supremacy, to which I have already called the attention of 
my readers ; and vindicated himself from the charge of 
cowardice, saying that he had no mind to die for Luther's 
paradoxes, and using other words, on which I shall have 
observations to make in a future chapter. We find also, in 
this work, a defence of himself from the charge of vain- 
glory, saying that if it had been true, he would have 
* Op. torn. X. p. 1631, edit. Lugd. 



DEATH OF HUTTEX. 2ol 

accepted the splendid offers wliicli had been made to him. 
That this defence was insufficient, vrill appear phiinly here- 
after. He concluded with saying that he regretted this 
controversy, because he was anxious to turn away his 
thoughts from the tumult and contentions of earth, and to 
prepare for the strict and solemn account which he should 
have to render when he stood before the Judgment-Seat of 
Christ. 

Hutten never saw this work. Soon afterwards, the 
career of one of the greatest geniuses of modern times, who 
had fought resolutely against superstition, but often not in 
a Christian spirit, nor with weapons drawn from the armour}?" 
of heaven, came to a termination. Hutten died unnoticed 
at the end of August, 1523, and was buried in an obscure 
grave in the island of Ufuau on the lake of Zurich. Eras- 
mus was blamed for having pubHshed his " Spongia " after 
Hutten's death ; but the truth is that he was not aware of 
it for two months after its publication. I wish that I 
could acc[uit him of the meanness of having made a violent 
attack upon Hutten on account of his vices, shortly after 
his death, in a letter which he knew would be read every- 
where, while he took credit to himself for not having done 
so in his " Spongia."' The conduct and treatise of Hutten 
were certainly very reprehensible. "When we think of the 
last days of his life, we cannot fail to regret that he should 
have cast a shadow over them by assisting in widening, 
through this unseemly attack on Erasmus, the breach be- 
tween him and the Eeformers. 

Luther was very much grieved at the treatment which 
Erasmus had received from Hutten. He saw that he and 
other violent men of his party were doing their utmost to 
alienate him from the Eeformation. He was convinced that 
they wanted to compel him to do a work to which he was 
altogether unequal. AYe Cjuite subscribe to his oj)inion on 



252 ERASMUS E-QT QUALIFIED FOE EOUGH WOEK. 

that matter. It would have been better if no attempt had 
been made to drag forth Erasmus as a gladiator into the 
theological arena. He was not qualified to do the rough 
work of the Eeformation. When Luther's work had begun, 
the work of Erasmus may be said to have come to an end. 
He was, as we have seen, a good pioneer. " Erasmus," 
said Luther, '' is admirable in pointing out errors, but he 
knows not how to teach the truth." The reason assigned 
for the persistent efforts made to enlist his energies in the 
cause of the Eeformers was the apprehension that he would 
be induced by the urgent entreaties of the Eomanists, which 
I shall describe presently, to come forward and write a 
powerful work in defence of their dogmas. Perhaps that 
fear was natural. But still, as we shall see presently, the 
language addressed to him caused the very evil which it 
was designed to prevent, and was the means of driving him 
into the camp of their opponents. If Erasmus had been: 
allowed to remain in a position of dignified repose, and 
had never mingled in the fray, in all probability his peace 
of mind would not have been interrupted ; he would not 
have receded in his later days from the ground which he 
occupied in the early part of his life ; and his name would 
have descended with scarcely a stain upon it to succeeding 
generations. 

The following letter of Luther to him, written in April, 
1524, fully expresses these views and apprehensions.* It 
seems to me far too full of contemptuous and irritating ex- 
pressions ; and in some respects Erasmus' answer contrasts- 
well with it. He begins in the Apostolical manner. 
*' Grace and peace to you from the Lord Jesus." 

"I shall not complain of you," he says, ''for having 
behaved yourself as a man estranged from us, to keep fair 

* This is mainly Milner's version a little altered. Milner's. 
** Churcli History," vol. v. p. 584. 



Luther's lettee. 253 

with tlie Papists, my enemies. Nor was I much offended, 
that in your printed l)ooks, to gain their favour, or to soften 
their rage, you censured us with too much acrimony. We 
saw that the Lord had not given you the discernment, the 
courage, and the resokition to join with us, and freely and 
confidently to oppose those monsters ; and, therefore, we 
would not exact from you that which surpasses your strength 
and capacity. We have even borne with your weakness, 
and honoured that portion of the gift of God which is in 
you j for the whole world must own with gratitude, that 
through you letters reign and flourish, and that we are 
enabled to read the Sacred Scriptures in their originals. I 
never wished that, forsaking or neglecting your own proper 
talents, you should enter into our camp. You might indeed 
have aided us not a little by your wit and eloquence ; but 
since you have not the disposition and the courage for it, 
it is safer for you to serve the Lord in your own way. 
Only we feared lest our adversaries should entice you to 
write against us, and necessity should constrain us to oppose 
you to your face. We have held back some persons amongst 
us, who were disposed and prepared to attack you ; and I 
could have wished that the complaint of Hutten had never 
been published, and still more that your " Spongia," in 
answer to it, had never come forth ; by which, you may at 
present, if I mistake not, see and feel how easy it is to say 
fine things about the duty of modesty and moderation, and 
to accuse Luther of wanting them j and how difficult, and 
even impossible, it is to be really modest and moderate 
without a special gift of the Holy Ghost. Believe me, or 
believe me not, Jesus Christ is my witness, that I am con- 
cerned as well as you, that the resentment and hatred of so 
many eminent persons have been excited against you. I 
must suppose that this is a matter which gives you no small 
uneasiness j for this is a trial too great for mere human 



254 luthee's letter. 

virtue like your own. To speak freely, there are persons 
amongst us who liave this weakness about them, that they 
cannot bear, as they ought, your bitterness and dissimula- 
tion, which you want to pass off for prudence and modesty. 
They have cause for resentment ; and yet would not be 
offended if they possessed greater magnanimity. Hitherto, 
though you have provoked me, I have restrained myself; 
and I promised my friends, in letters which you have seen, 
that I would continue to do so, unless you should come 
forward openly against us. For although you think not 
with us, and many pious doctrines are condemned by you, 
through irreligion or dissimulation, or treated in a sceptical 
manner, yet I neither can nor will ascribe a stubborn 
perverseness to you. What can I do now? Things are 
exasperated on both sides ; and I could wish, if I might be 
allowed to act the part of a mediator, that they would 
cease to assail you with so much animosity, and suffer your 
old age to rest in peace in the Lord ; and thus they would 
conduct themselves, in my opinion, if they either considered 
your weakness, or the magnitude of the controverted cause, 
which has long been beyond your capacity. They should 
be the more inclined to show moderation to you, because 
our affairs are so far advanced that our cause is in no 
danger, although even Erasmus should attack it with all his 
might, with all his acute points and strictures. On the 
other hand, my dear Erasmus, if you duly reflect on your 
own weakness, you will abstain from those sharp and 
spiteful figures of rhetoric ; and if you cannot, or will not, 
defend our sentiments, you will let them alone, and treat 
of subjects which are better suited to you. Our friends, even 
you yourself must own, have some reason to be out of 
humour at being lashed by you, because human infirmity 
thinks of the authority and reputation of Erasmus. Indeed, 
there is much difference between him and the rest of the 



ERASMUS' ANSWEE. 255 

Papists. He alone is a more formidable adversary tlian all 
of them joined together. 

''My prayer is that the Lord may give you a spirit 
worthy of your great reputation ; but if this be not granted, 
I intreat you, if you cannot help, to remain, at least, a 
spectator of our severe conflict, and not to join our ad- 
versaries ; and, in particular, not to write tracts against us ; 
on which condition I will not publish against you." 

Erasmus sent the following brief answer to Luther : " I 
fear that Satan may delude you ; at least I doubt the truth 
of your doctrines ; and I would never profess what I do not 
believe, much less what I have not attained. Besides, I 
dread the ruin of literature. I have only endeavoured to 
remove tlie idea that there is a perfect understanding 
between you and me, and that all your doctrines are to be 
found in my books. Whatever you may write against me 
gives me no great concern. Perhaps Erasmus, by writing 
against you, may do more good to the cause of the Gospel 
than some foolish scribblers of your own party, who will 
not suffer a man to be a quiet spectator of these conten- 
tions — the tragical issue of which I dread.""^ 

During this time every effort had been exerted to induce 
Erasmus to oppose the Eeformers. All, to a man, fixed 
their eyes upon him, as the only person at all qualified to 
retrieve the fallen fortunes of Romanism. Popes, cardinals, 
prelates, kings, princes, united in doing homage to his 
genius. They used every argument, and every entreaty; 
they flattered him ; they addressed themselves to his pride, 
to his ambition, and to his timidity ; hoping to induce him 
to lend them the aid of his powerful arm in the conflict 
with their foes. Pope Adrian, of Utrecht, his old school- 
fellow at Deventer, who was elected Pope after the death of 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 926, edit. Lugd. 



256 ERASMUS URGED TO ATTACK LUTHER. 

Leo, in 1522, wrote to Mm two memorable letters, in one 
of winch he intreated him, " out of regard to his reputation 
to take up his pen against these novel heresies," telling 
him that " God had bestowed on him a great genius, and a 
liappy turn for writing, and that it was his duty to use his 
gifts m defence of the Church.^'^'^^ 

Henry VIII. also strongly urged him to take the field against 
Luther. George of Saxony exhorted him to attack Luther 
openly; or, as he said, there would be a general outcry 
against him, as one who had neglected his duty, and cared 
neither for the dignity of the Church nor the purity of the 
GospeLt Tonstall, the bigoted Bishop of London ^^thus 
wrote to him: -By the suff-eringsand blood of Christ, by the 
glory which you hope for in heaven, I exhort and conjure you 
Erasmus, nay, the Church intreats and conjures you, to en- 
counter this many-headed monster. "J Erasmus for a long 
time withstood these repeated soHcitations. He did, indeed 
in compliance with one request of Adrian, send to him the 
secret advice for the restoration of peace in the Church, 
•which he had promised in a previous letter.§ He recom- 
mended that - some concessions should be made; that the 
causes of the evils should be investigated; that the Hcentious- 
ness of the press should be restrained ; that to settle these 
points, there should be called together, from different nations 

men of integrity and ability, whose opinion" leaving 

off abruptly in the middle of a sentence, as if he were afraid 
that he was offering to Adrian and his Court unacceptable ad- 
vice. This fear proved to have been well-founded, for the Pope 
expressed his displeasure at it, and his enemies at Eome in 
consequence of it, laboured for his ruin. But he still turned 
^ deaf ear to Adrian's second request, that he would write 

* Op torn. iii. p. 735, edit. Lugd. f ibid. p. 800. • 

t Ibid. p. 771. g Ibid. p. 580, edit. Bas. 



HIS DETEEMINATIOIs^ TO WBJTE AGAIITST LUTHEE. 'ID i 

against Luther, and was proof against the flattery, the ex- 
hortations, and the remonstrances addressed to him by 
others. Probably all those reasons for declining the contest 
weighed with him, which have been already mentioned. Yet 
he had motives for plunging into the thick of the battle. 
His self-love, his besetting sin, had been wounded. People 
began to say that he was unequal to the conflict with this 
mighty giant. A monk now occupied that throne to which 
he himself had been raised b}^ the unanimous consent of 
Christendom. He would have to hide his diminished head 
behind the broad eff'algence of this newly risen luminary.. \ 
He was desirous of establishing his superiority to Luther. > 
Probably, if he had not before made up his mind to oppose 
him, liUther's letter at length induced him to do so.. 
Then the cup of his indignation was full to the very brim. 
He gave a promise that he would declare himself in a public 
manner against the Eeformation. He determined to un^ 
sheathe his sword, and to endeavour to stay the triumphant 
march of his adversary. 

Erasmus^ however, was so embarrassed by his past career, 
that he found it ver}^ difficult to come forward as the 
champion of Eomanism. This had been another reason, 
hitherto, for declining to write against the Eeformers. He had' 
condemned, in the strongest terms, the corruptions of the 
Church of Eome, and many of her doctrines. He could not 
conscientiously aid the Pope in riveting on the limbs of the 
inhabitants of Europe those manacles from which he had 
laboured to deliver them. Accordingly he avoided those 
questions of indulgences, the invocation of the Saints, 
pilgrimages, and purgatory, on which he had formerly 
expressed a decided opinion, and wrote an elaborate treatise 
called "Diatribe," on the great question of free-will, on which 
he really differed from Luther.* Of this work he was. 
* De libero arbitrio Atarpi/3//. Op. torn. ix. p. 997, edit. Bas. 

17 



258 HIS TREATISE ON FREE-WILL. 

thinking in 1523, for he wrote to King Henry YIII. in the 
September of that year, " I am meditating something 
against the novel doctrines, but I dare not publish it before 
I leave Germany, lest I should fall a victim before I appear 
in the contest;"* but he did not publish it till the autumn 
of 1524. He sent a part of it to Henry VIII. for his 
approbation. He sent copies also to Wolsey, Warham, and 
others. 

This is one of those great questions on which the mind, 
" in wandering mazes lost," often finds no rest for the sole 
of its weary feet. The object of Erasmus was to show that 
a man can either apply himself to those things which con- 
cern his salvation, or turn away from them. But he makes 
statements which are inconsistent with this view of the 
matter. He pronounces as "moderately probable," the 
opinion that "a man can neither begin, nor carry on, nor 
finish anything without Divine grace " and again he says, 
''that there is no denying that the Divine operation must 
concur in the production of every action, and for this 
reason, because every action implies a real existence of 
something, and even of something good." He does not 
express his thoughts plainly. He states in fact one thing, 
and proves another. The doctrine of Luther, which 
Erasmus condemned, is well stated in the Tenth Article of 
the Church of England, " Of Free-will." '' The condition 
of man after the fall of Adam is such, that he cannot turn 
and prepare himself, by his own natural strength and good 
works, to faith, and calHng upon God : Wherefore we have 
no power to do good works pleasant and acceptable to God, 
without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we 
may have a good will, and working with us, when we have 
that good will." 

His letters, written at this time, show that he published 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 773, edit. Lugd. 



THE TREATISE PUBLISHED UNWILLIiN'GLT. 259 

the '' Diatribe on the Freedom of the Will," very un- 
willingly. He thought, too, that he should not satisfy 
many members of the Roman Catholic Church. Of his 
unfitness for the work which he had imposed upon himself, 
he was well aware, for he said in a letter to Fisher, Bishop 
of Rochester, " I know that, in writing on free-will, I was 
not in my proper sphere."* And in another letter to a 
friend, he goes on to say : " But to confess the truth, we 
liave lost free-will. There my mind dictated one thing, and 
my pen wrote another."t These words are expressed 
incautiously, and are to be understood, not as a proof of his 
insincerity, but as intimating, as Jortin has observed, " that 
he had written, not against his conscience, but against his 
inclination, and so had lost his free-vAll : for first he has 
declared this a hundred times over ; and secondly he 
certainly picked out a subject on which he really dififered 
from Luther, and could write against him ex animo. Any 
man of common discernment, who peruses his treatises on 
this subject, will see that he writes as he believed. His 
acquaintance also with the ancient Greek fathers, and his 
professed respect for them, could not fail to make liim a 
sort of Semipelagian."^ We may argue also that his heart 
could not have been engaged on this momentous question, or 
else we should discover more life and warmth in his treatise. 
We may add, too, that he would not, in this case, have 
bestowed more attention than usual on the polish of the 
style, the elegance of the Latinity, and the balancing of the 
periods, while writing on one of the most important sub- 
jects which can occupy the attention of a rational and im- 
mortal being. 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 815, edit. Lugd. 

t Ibid p. 985. 

It: Jortin's " Life," vol. i. p. 415. For proofs that Erasmus wrote 
very sincerely yet unwillingly, see quotations from letters to friends 
in Milner's "Church Hist.," vol. v. p. 308. 

17—2 



260 luther's treatise "de servo arbitrio." 

Luther was so much occupied that he did not immediately 
reply to the " Diatribe." This silence was construed by the 
monks and scholastic divines into an admission that the 
arguments of Erasmus were unanswerable. " They asked/*^ 
wrote Luther, "with an air of insult, 'What, has this Mac- 
cabseus, this sturdy dogmatist, at last found an antagonist 
against whom he dares not open his mouth?'"* 

Erasmus, during this time, was suffering tortures. He- 
had indeed abstained, in his treatise, from all malice against 
Luther, hoping that he should disarm his hostility. But 
still he trembled when he thought of the formidable enemy 
whom he had provoked. " The die has been cast," he wrote 
to Henry VIIL, " the book on the freedom of the will has 
appeared Believe me, it is a bold deed, if the situ- 
ation of Germany be considered. I expect to be stoned for 
it."t Before long he bitterly repented of what he had done. 
"Why should I not have been permitted," he exclaimed, 
*' to wear out my old age in the garden of the Muses ? 
Here have I, an old man of sixty, been violently pushed 
into the arena, and instead of the lyre, obliged to hold the 
cestus and the net !"| 

At length, towards the end of 1525, Luther's celebrated 
treatise, " De Servo Arbitrio," in reply to Erasmus, made 
its appearance. It was received at once with great eager- 
ness, and had an extraordinary sale. The booksellers of 
Wittenberg, Augsburg, and Nurenberg, endeavoured to 
surpass one another in the rapidity with which they printed 
their numerous editions. I have space only to glance at 
one or two statements of doctrine in it which may serve to 

* Luther's letter to Erasmus, prefixed to his " Treatise de Servo 
Arbitrio." Milner's "Church History," vol. v. p. 272. 

+ Op. torn. iii. p. 816, edit. Lugd. 

X Ibid. p. 834. He alludes to the net which the Roman gladi- 
ators tried to throw over their antagonists. 



Luther's treatise "de servo arbitrio." 2G1 

give a general idea of the manner in which he conducted 
his argument. He says in the letter already referred to, 
"I feel most indignant to see such contemptible materials 
conveyed in the most precious and ornamental pieces of 
eloquence. They are like the sweepings of a stable placed 
in golden dishes." Erasmus had asserted that words like 
these '' Choose ye this day whom ye will serve," implied the 
ability of man in his own natural strength to do the will of 
God. Luther, however, asserted that the passages referred 
to show him what he ought to do, and his inability to do it, 
but do not inform him of the existence of the power 
attributed to him ; that when the Word of God says 
" Choose," it assumes the assistance of that grace by which 
alone men can be enabled to do what God commands ; that 
as, when our Lord summoned Lazarus to come forth, He 
gave him the power to burst the bands of death, so when 
God gives a command to the bond-slaves of sin and Satan 
to cast away their fetters, He accompanies it with the will 
and the power to come forth from their prison-house into 
" the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free." Luther 
considered his own an essential and fundamental doctrine, 
for he closes his book with the following words : " You 
and only you have seen the true hinge upon which all 
turned, and have aimed your blow at the throat. On 
this account I can sincerely thank you." He felt that it 
was connected with his doctrine of justification by faith ; 
for he says, " Erasmus owns that he defends free-will that 
he may obtain some place for merits ; and he is per- 
petually saying, that where there is no liberty there can 
be no merit; and where there is no merit, there is no 
room for reward. But St. Paul represents justification as a 
perfectly free gift, without any consideration of merit. . . . 
Now the advocates of free-will have no other method of 
answering the question. Why does God justify one man and 



262 Erasmus's " htpebaspistes." 

not another? than by having recourse to the different use 
which they suppose men to make of their free-will ; namely, 
that in the one case there are exertions, in the other no 
"exertions ; and that God approves of one man on account 
of his exertions, but punishes the other for the neglect of 

them Thus our gracious God is described as a 

respecter of works, of merits, and of persons." These, then, 
are the views which Luther entertained on the great ques- 
tion of free-will. We find him presenting them in a ner- 
vous style, and a tone, forming a contrast to the hesitating 
utterance of Erasmus, which showed that he considered 
himself to have a firm grasp on the truth, and with a deep 
conviction that his was the right system to be propounded ta 
the nations, and that they must be taught to pray that "God 
would send them help from the sanctuary, and strengthen 
them out of Zion,'"' before they could cast off the ceremonial 
formalism and superstition of ages, and obtain the ''glorious 
liberty of the children of God." 

Erasmus had no sooner read Luther's treatise than he 
published a very angry reply to it called "Hyperaspistes."* 
In the advertisement to the first part he informs us that, 
through the management of the Lutherans, he was allowed 
only ten days for the composition of it. Luther had in his 
treatise paid a high tribute to the genius of his adversary. 
Erasmus was, however, so enraged with him that he repre- 
sents it in his reply as the honey of a poisoned cup, or as 
the sting accompanying the embrace of the serpent. He 
gave another proof of the excessive irritation of his mind 
against him : he wrote a letter to John, the new Elector of 
Saxony, in which he asks that Luther may be punished for 
charging him with holding epicurean or atheistical opinions. 
Soon afterwards he published a second book of the " Hyper- 

""' Part i. Op. torn. ix. p, 1026, and partii. Op. torn. ix. p. 1097, 
edit. Bas. 



Erasmus's " hypeeaspistes." 263 

aspistes," because, as he informs us in it, the moderation of the 
'' Diatribe " was considered by some as indicating a collusion 
with Luther. They said that he had spared his adversary. 
People were not wanting, he observed, who spoke of a collusion, 
even after the pubhcation of the first part of the "Hyperas- 
pistes." This book is more elaborate than the other; it is 
also lonof and wearisome. The attentive reader will often 
find great difficulty in ascertaining his exact meaning, and 
■will not be able to come to a distinct or satisfactory conclu- 
sion. It is full of invectives. He accuses his adversary 
repeatedly of barbarity, impudence, lying, and blasphemy. 
He ventures on a prediction. " Luther prouiises himself a 
wonderful reputation with posterity, whereas I am rather 
inclined to prophesy that no name under the sun will be 
held in greater execration than Luther's." .... 

It is painful to find these two great men bringing against 
each other these railing accusations, and showing an utter 
disregard of one of the plainest precepts of Christianity. 
Luther, as his warmest admirers admit, was, throughout his 
illustrious career, often betrayed into the use of -violent 
lansruagre. He had indeed told Melancthon that he should 
be very moderate in his reply ; but he forgot his promise, 
and did not attempt to restrain his impetuosity. It is right, 
however, to add, that he wrote to Erasmus afterwards a con- 
ciliatory letter, in which he expressed his deep sorrow for 
the infirmity of a violent temper. Erasmus, who had hitherto 
been remarkable for his mildness, now lost that moderation, 
and patience which had hitherto been the secret of his 
strength in his conflicts. The treatise on the bondage of 
the will was the cause of more open hostihties with the 
Lutherans, and quite precluded the possibility of a recon- 
ciliation between the contending parties. 

This controversy was to the end of his days a source of 
much vexation to Erasmus. ]S"o circumstance, however, in con- 



564 melancthon's judgment on the conteoveksy. 

nection with it was more disappointing to him than the avowed 
judgment of Melancthon. He knew him at the time of the 
publication of the " Novum Instrumentum," for he mentions 
him with honour in it. Melancthon was so delighted with 
this work that he offered him a tribute of admiration in 
Greek verse, dated August 21, 1516, which was sent to him 
hj Beatus Ehenanus.* He seemed at this time likely to 
ruin his health by hard work at the University of Tiibingen. 
A correspondent introduces him as worthy of the love of 
*' Erasmus the first," because he was likely to prove " Eras- 
mus the second."t These two distinguished men often 
corresponded, and were on very good terms with each other. 
Melancthon spoke of Erasmus as " the first to call back 
theology to her fountain-head," and as '^ freer than Luther, 
because he had the assistance of real and sacred learning ;'i. 
and Erasmus on the other hand expressed, in 1518, a hope 
that he might long survive himself, predicting that if he did 
so, his name would cast the name of Erasmus into the 
shade. "§ Thus, then, w^e see that he would attach very 
great importance to an opinion expressed by Melancthon on 
this controversy, especially as he, along with the rest of the 
world, had the highest opinion of his talents, learning, and 
moderation. He^wrote to him soon after the publication of 
the ''Diatribe." "If Wittenberg," he said, " had not been 
so far off, I would have gone there for a few days on pur- 
pose to communicate with you and Luther.|| I have read 
all your commonplaces, and I both admire and love more 

* Seebohm's "Oxford Eeformers," p. 401. 

+ CEcolampadiiis Erasmo, torn. iii. p. 235, edit. Lugd. 

t Seebohm, p. 478. 

§ Eras. CEcolampadio, torn. iii. p. 367, edit. Lugd. 

II Jortin says, that his whole conduct shows that he had no 
thoughts of paying sitch a visit, and that these were merely compli- 
ments to pacify Melancthon and Luther. — Vol. i. p. 340. 



RESIDENCE OF ERASMUS AT BASLE. 2G5 

and more your candid and happy genius."* What a disap- 
pointment it must have been to Erasmus, when he called to 
mind the high opinion of him which Melancthon once enter- 
tained, to receive a few weeks afterwards a letter in which he 
told him that he could not with a safe conscience condemn 
Luther's sentiments ; and to find him saying, " We are not 
at all shocked at your dissertation on free-will, for it would 
be mere tyranny to hinder any man from giving his opinion, 
in the Church of Christ on any points of religion. "t 

But this was not his only vexation in connection with 
this matter. We find that he gave ofi'ence to both parties, and 
greatly disappointed all the learned in Europe. His greatest 
admirers allowed that his "Diatribe" was a feeble production. 
Many of the Lutherans were much exasperated, and none 
were convinced by his treatise. The Papists revenged them- 
selves for the failure of their champion by the violence with 
which they attacked his former works. 

Erasmus had now been residing for some time at Basle. 
He came to it from Louvain in November, 152L His great 
inducement to do so was that he might be near Froben's 
printing press. Soon after his arrival he seems to have 
suffered greatly from the stone. The wonder is, when we 
consider the excruciating nature of these sufferings to which 
he often refers, that he should have been able to apply him- 
self with so much ardour to the prosecution of his studies. 
Notwithstanding the opposition of the monks, he had found 
Louvain, for some time, a very agreeable place of residence. 
The climate was healthy, and the situation delightful. 
Another inducement to reside in it was that it was in the 
dominions of the Emperor. If he departed from them he 
feared that he should lose his pension. He liked Louvain 

' Op. torn. iii. p. 830, edit. Lugd. + Ibid. p. 820. 



266 WILLIAM FAEEL. 

also "besause he found at it many attached friends. But 
they at length became changed and distant, because they 
were afraid that he was inflicting injury on the Church. 
The Lutherans in the city also followed him with bitter 
hostility. He was afraid, too, that the Emperor, if he con- 
tinued in his dominions, would compel him to write against 
Luther. For these reasons he had determined to take his 
departure from Louvain. 

ximong the residents at Basle in 1524 was a young French 
Eeformer named William Farel, who had sought^refuge in that 
city from the storm of persecution in France. Farel constantly 
evinced his contempt for Erasmus, because he did not show 
that boldness and decision of character for which he thought 
that every faithful follower of the Saviour ought to be dis- 
tinguished. Erasmus was very angry because a young un- 
known Frenchman from Dauphiny dared to revile him, and 
to withhold from him that homage which had been willingly 
paid to him even by the highest and mightiest of this 
world's potentates. Farel said that he was convinced that 
Erasmus had not received into his heart the truths of the 
Gospel, and was provoked to see him, from fear of the con- 
sequences, closing the door of his house against the Keform- 
ers. Being anxious to lessen his influence, because he 
was afraid that others would be led by the example of this 
eminent man to exhibit the same failings for which he had 
unhappily rendered himself conspicuous, he openly asserted 
that Erasmus wished to extinguish the light of the Gospel, and 
said that Froben's wife knew more divinity than he. In 
using this language he showed himself m^uch wanting in the 
meekness of the Gospel. Erasmus lost no opportunity of 
giving vent to his anger. He attacked also all the other 
French refugees at Basle. " What," he wrote to Melanc- 
thon, "■ shall we shake off the dominion of Popes and Pre- 
lates, only to submit to worse tyrants, to scabby madmen, 



WILLIAM FAKEL. 267 

to the scum of the earth ? . . . for such Prance has 
lately sent to us."'-' Instead of Farel, he often called him 
Fallicus, or deceitful ; and sa.js further of him in a letter 
to A. Bragnarius, " The Lutherans themselves cannot hear, 
that fellow j he has heen reprimanded several times by 
(Ecolampadius and Pelican, but to no purpose.'"'t 

He became perfectly furious when he heard that Farel 
had called him Balaam. Turning suddenly to him one day 
in the presence of others, who were discussing some points 
of Christian doctrine, he asked why he had given him that 
name ? Farel_, taken by surprise, hesitated for a moment, 
but soon recoverins: himself told him that it was not he who 
had called him so, but Dii Blet, a merchant of Lyons, a re- 
fugee like himself, at Basle. " Eather," said Erasmus, "he 
learnt it from you." Then, ashamed of himself for having 
shown anger, he changed the conversation, and said to him, 
" "Why do you not hold the doctrine of the Invocation of the 
Saints 1 I suppose because you do not find it in Scripture f 
Farel assented. " Show me then," he said, "from Scripture, 
that we ought to invoke the Holy Ghost." Farel replied, 
" If he be God, we ought to pray to him." Farel, being 
pressed by Erasmus to give a passage from Scripture, while 
he told him often at the same time that he agreed with him 
on that point, and that he only did so for the sake of argu- 
ment, cited that from St. John's first Epistle — " and these 
Three are One." "I answered," says Erasmus, ''that the 
words, ' the Father, the TFord, and the Eohj Ghost' are in 
no ancient manuscript, and have never been cited by those 
Fathers who have disputed most against the Arians, as 
Athanasius, Cyril, and Hilary." •' I left the discussion,'^ 
he continued, " because night was coming on. He could not 
prove that the Holy Ghost is God, a truth which may be 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 820, edit. Lugd. t Ibid. p. 822. 



^68 Erasmus's lettee to waeham. 

proved from St. Paul ; and if he had done so, he would not 
have vanquished me in . argument ; for it is no opinion of 
mine, that the Saints ought to be invoked."^ 

Farel does not appear to advantage in this matter. He 
was one of those whose disregard of the plainest precepts 
of Christianitj^ helped to alienate Erasmus from the Eeform- 
ation. We must observe, too, that Erasmus, while attack- 
ing the Eeformers, chose to forget that many of his friends 
among the Eomanists were the slaves . of every vice. I 
have given the particulars connected with Farel, because I am 
l^ound to record the painful fact that Erasmus so far forgot 
the example of Him, who, " when He was reviled reviled 
not again, when He suffered threatened not," as constantly 
to pour forth the venom of his heart in the language of 
abuse, during the last sad years of his memorable career, and 
to censure the morals of the Lutherans, as if the party were 
to be blamed for the errors of a few. 

I shall now give an extract from a letter of Erasmus to his 
friend, Warham, which will be of service in the delineation 
of his character. Like that beautiful passage in Macbeth, 

' 'This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air 
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself 
Unto our gentle senses. 

This guest of summer, 
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, 
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath 
Smells wooingly here ;" 

introduced just as the clouds are becoming darker and more 
threatening, so this extract may be a relief to the mind, 
wearied by the contemplation of the gloomy picture which 
has just been presented to the view. Erasmus tells his 
j^atron that he had sent to him the second edition of the 
epistles of St. Jerome, wet from the press, so 

* Erasmus, in the same letter to A. Brugnarius, says that Farel 
had given a different account of what had taken place. 



HIS JOKE ABOUT HIS HORSE. 269 

that he could not bind them, containing the dedication 
to him, dated July^ 1524. He adds that he had twice 
received twenty pounds ; thanks the Archbishop for 
having augmented his pension : and exclaims, " Cursed be 
these wars which decimate us so often ! I thought, how- 
ever, that pensions did not pay such taxes." 

The Archbishop had also sent him a horse, which Erasmus 
thus describes to him. " I have received your horse, who is 
not very handsome, but a good creature ; for he is free from 
all mortal sins, except gluttony and laziness ; and he is en- 
dued with the qualities of a holy father confessor, being 
prudent, modest, humble, chaste, and peaceable, and one 
who neither bites nor kicks. I fancy that by the knavery 
or mistake of your domestics, I have not the horse intended 
for me. I had ordered my servant not to ask for a horse, 
nor to accept one, unless some person offered to him a very 
good one, of his own accord. And yet I am equally obliged 
to you for your kind intention. Indeed I thought to sell 
my horses, as I have given up riding."^ 

Thus we see that he never lost his sportive humour. 
Like a flash of light illumining the gloom, it breaks out 
amid the clouds which had gathered thickly around him. 

Erasmus discovered matter for pleasantry not only in the 
gayest but also in the gravest subjects. The " Colloquies," be- 
gun in 1519, when the first edition, a short work, was pub- 
lished, and followed by other editions much increased in size, 
till 1530, illustrate the truth of this assertion. The edition of 
1522, much enlarged, was dedicated to J. Erasmius Froben, 
his god-son, the son of Froben, the printer. He composed this 
■work partly that young persons might have a book to teach 
them the Latin language, and religious and moral sentiments^ 
and partly to cure the world, if possible, of the abuses and 
superstitious devotion of which the monks were the authors 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 730, edit. Bas. 



270 THE *' COLLOQUIES." 

and abettors. He is not so well known to the public by any 
of his works as by his "Colloquies." They abound in wit 
and taste, biting satire and elegant criticism, and contain 
very good descriptions of life and manners. The speakers 
are brought so distinctly before us that we seem to hear 
the conversation carried on between them. We see the 
seriousness of some of them, the wit of others, and the good 
humour of all of them. The " Colloquies " are written in 
very elegant Latin, and contain the happiest allusions to pas- 
sages in the best classical authors. 

Scarcely had the "Colloquies" made their appearance, 
when a loud outcry was raised against them. Erasmus was 
accused of laughing at indulgences, of slighting auricular con- 
fession, of deriding the eating of fish on fast days, and other 
superstitions of a similar description. The Faculty of Theology 
at Paris passed a censure on the " Colloquies," in 1526, as 
a work in which " the fasts and abstinences of the'Church 
are slighted, the sufferings of the Holy Virgin and the 
Saints are ridiculed. Virginity is set below Matrimony, 
Christians are discouraged from Monkery, and grammatical 
is preferred to theological erudition. The perusal of this 
wicked book is therefore forbidden to all, especially to the 
young, and it is decreed that it be entirely suppressed, if 
possible." It was also condemned by the Inquisition, and 
the reading of it was prohibited. 

I have already referred to the extraordinary sale of this 
work, and have also given extracts from it, illustrative of 
the manner in which it aided the Eeformation. There can 
"be no doubt that coming as a school-book into the hands of 
the rising generation, it prepared them, at the most impor- 
tant time of life, for casting from them the shackles of su- 
perstition which had long held their forefathers in bondage. 
The best passages and the liveliest strokes of wit are di- 
rected against the Monks. The " Seraphic Obsequies" is 



THE ''SERAPHIC OBSEQUIES." 271 

the finest of the " Colloquies," and the most exquisite in its 
satire. It contains an exposure of the history of the Order. 
The following is an extract from it." The persons who 
converse are Theotimus and Philecous. The first name is 
derived from Greek words, signifying a worshipper of God, 
and the second from words denoting one who is desirous of 
hearing, an examiner of reports. 

Phil. — What is the cause, Theotimus, of this unwonted 
gravity of demeanour ? 

Theo. — I am returning from the funeral of an angel. 

Phil. — "What do I hear? Do even the angels die? 

Tlieo. — ISlo, but tlieir fellows die. Not, however, to keep 
you any longer in suspense, you know, I think, Eusebius of 
Pelusium, a distinguished and learned man.t 

Phil. — What, do you mean him who, after he had been a 
prince, became a private man, then an exile, then a little 
better than a beggar ; I had almost said something worse. 

Theo. — You have guessed the person to whom I refer. 

Phil. — But what has happened to him ? 

Theo. — He was buried to-day. I am returning from the 
funeral. 

Phil. — That must have been a sad ceremony which has 
made you so sad. 

Theo. — I am afraid that I shall not be able to describe to 
you what I saw without tears. 

Phil. — /am afraid that /shall not be able to hear it with- 
out laughing. But go on with what you have to say. 

Theo. — You know that Eusebius has long been in bad 
health. His physicians told him that they had done all 
they could for him ; that God indeed could do what they 

* Op. torn. i. p. 737, edit. Bas. 

t The Prince of Carpi, one of the opponents of Erasmus, to whom 
reference will afterwards be made, is the person here referred to. 
He died at Paris, and was carried to his grave in the Franciscan robe. 



272 THE "seraphic obsequies." 

could not do ; but that, as far as they could tell, he could 
not live for more than three days. 

Phil. — What happened then 1 

Theo. — Immediately that distinguished man put upon his 
feeble body the robe of the most holy Francis, had his head 
shaven, put on the ash-coloured cowl, and a robe of the 
same colour, took the knotted girdle, and placed on his 
feet the shoes which have glass in them. 

Phil. — What? when he was about to die? 

Theo. — Yes ; nay more : he declared with his dying voice, 
that he would fight for Christ according to the rule of St. 
Francis, if contrary to the expectation of the physicians he 
should recover. Men remarkable for their sanctity were 
witnesses to this declaration. This excellent individual 
died in this robe at the time foretold by the physicians. 
Several members of the fraternity came to the house ta 
assist at his funeral solemnity. 

Phil. — I wish that I had been present at that spectacle. 

Theo. — -You would have shed tears if you had seen the 
affection wdth which the Seraphic brothers washed the 
corpse, fitted on that holy robe, placed his hands in the 
form of a cross, laid the feet bare, and kissed them when 
they had done so, and anointed his face with ointment 
according to the direction in the Gospels. Afterwards they 
placed the body on the bier ; and, according to the j)recepf> 
of St. Paul, '^ Bear ye one another's burdens,"'^ the brethren 
bore their brother on their own shoulders along the road 
to the monastery. Here they buried him with solemn 
dirges. As that funeral procession was passing, I sa^v 
several unable to refrain from tears, on seeing a man whom 
they had before seen clothed in purple and fine linen, now 
wearing the robe of the Franciscan, with the girdle around 

• Galat. vi. 2. 



THE "SEEAPHIC OBSEQUIES." 273 

him, and having his body placed out in a manner calculated 
to excite relisrious feelinsfs. For the head of the dead man 
was turned towards his shoulder, and the hands, as I have 
said, were placed crosswise. This was a truly religious 
spectacle. Nay, the Seraphic brethren themselves, with 
their bent heads, with their downcast looks, and with their 
dirges so mournful that I do not think that the shades 
below could chant more mournfully, drew tears and sobs 
from many of the spectators. 

Phil. — Had he the five wounds of St. Francis 1 

Theo. — I cannot say for certain that he had them. Some 
livid marks were seen on his hands and feet ; and his robe 
had on the left side a little hole in it. But I did not 
venture to look too closely, because it is said that in matters 
of this kind curiosity has been fatal to many. 

Phil. — Did you see any one laughing 1 

Theo. — Yes ; but I imagine that they were heretics, of 
whom the world is now full. 

Phil. — To tell you the truth, Theotimus, I should have 
had a difiiculty in restraining my laughter, if I had been 
present at that spectacle. 

Theo. — God grant that you may escape the contagion of 
their opinions ! 

Phil. — There is no danger, most excellent Theotimus. I 
have always from my early childhood had a religious 
veneration for St. Francis, a man, in the estimation of the 
world, neither learned nor wise, but very dear to God 
because he laboured to mortify his worldly affections. All 
who tread in his footsteps desire from the bottom of their 
heart to die to the world, and to live to Christ. But I 
would gladly learn from you what good the robe can do to 
a dead man. 

Theo. — You know that God has told us not " to give that 

18 



2 74 THE "SEEAPHIC OBSEQUIES." 

•which is holy unto the dogs, neither to cast our pearls before 
swine. "'^ If, therefore, you ask the question, that you may 
find something to laugh at, you shall hear nothing from me; 
"but if you have a sincere desire to learn, I will gladly tell 
you what the members of that order have told me. 

Fliil. — I assure you that I will be an attentive and docile 
pupil. . . . 

The information asked for is given subsequently. Theo- 
timus first lays bare the secrets of the Franciscans. The 
conversation is continued in the following manner : — 

Phil. — What must we say of those who have the sacred 
robe put on them after their death 1 For they do not die 
in it. 

Theo. — If they have been anxious to have it when they 
were alive, the will is taken for the deed. 

Phil. — When I was at Antwerp, I was present with other 
relations at the death of a matron. In the room with us 
was a Franciscan, a very venerable man. When he saw 
lier dying, he put one of her arms into the sleeve of his robe, 
so that it covered that arm and part of his shoulder. Then 
a doubt arose whether the -whole of the woman was saved 
from hell, or only the part touched by the robe. 

Theo. — The whole ; just as in baptism, a part of the man 
is touched with the water, but the whole becomes Christian. 

Phil. — No wonder that the evil spirits have so great a 
dread of that robe. 

Theo. — They dread it more than the cross of our Lord. 
When Eusebius ^vas being carried to his burial, I and many 
others saw crowds of black devils, like flies, jumping 
towards the body, but none of them dared to touch it. 

Phil. — But in the meantime the face, the hands, and the 
feet were in danger because they were bare. 

Matt. vii. 6. 



THE "SEKAPHIC OBSEQUIES." 275 

Theo. — As serpents cannot endure even tlie shade of the 
asli-tree, though it is stretched out to some distance, so the 
devils feel the poison of the sacred robe when they are far 
off from it. 

Phil. — I suppose that these bodies do not putrefy ; other- 
-\yise worms would have more courage than evil spirits. 

Theo. — You are probably right. 

Phil. — How fortunate are the lice which always live in so 
holy a robe ! When, however, the robe is carried to the 
tomb, what is there to defend the soul ? 

Theo. — The soul carries away with it the influence of that 
garment which renders it secure, so that it is said that no 
member of that order can go at all to purgatory. 

Phil. — If you are right, I attach more importance to that 
revelation than to the Revelation of St. John ; for it shows 
a plain and easy way by which any one may, without 
trouble, difiiculty, or penitence, escape eternal death, and 
pass his whole life in pleasure. 

Theo. — I quite agree with you. 

Phil. — I can, therefore, no longer be surprised that many 
think highly of the Seraphic fraternity j but it is a wonder 
to me that there are some who are not afraid to oppose 
them. 

Theo. — Doubtless you refer to those who are delivered 
over to a reprobate mind, and are blinded by their own 
wickedness. 

Phil. — Hereafter I shall be more careful; and I will 
endeavour to die in the sacred robe. . . . 

The dialogue ends in the following manner : — 

Phil. — These people, girt with a cord, and having half- 
shoes on their feet, swarm everywhere; but there is scarcely 
one of them who follows the precept of our Lord, and the 
practice of the Apostles in aiming at perfection. 

Theo. — I am well aware that wicked men tell everywhere 

18—2 



276 , Erasmus's wit. 

scandalous tales of them ; but I have this feeling towards 
them, that wherever I see th-at most holy robe, I believe 
myself to be in the presence of an angel of God. I think 
also that the house must be a happy one, the threshold of 
which is trodden by their feet. 

Phil. — I trust that Francis will forgive me for having so 
long been in error. I thought that their robe was nothing 
else but a robe, and that it was not in itself better than the 
jacket of a sailor or the coat of a shoemaker, unless it were 
recommended by the sanctity of the wearer, just as the 
touch of the garment of Christ cured the issue of blood. I 
sometimes used to doubt whether the weaver or the tailor 
gave virtue to it. 

Theo. — Undoubtedly, he who gives the form gives the 
virtue. 

I Phil. — I shall now live more happily. I shall not tor- 
ment myself with the fear of hell, or worry myself about 
confession or doing penance. 

I have given the above as a very good specimen of his 
wit and satirical powers. As I have already stated, this 
sportive raillery served greatly to lessen the influence which 
the monks exercised over the common herd of the people, 
and to cure the latter of their attachment to the superstitions 
of the Church of Eome. I cannot, however, altogether 
commend his use of this weapon. Very often his wit is ill- 
timed. Thus writing to Ammonius he says, " I am very 
angry with the heretics, because now when winter is coming, 
they have increased the price of fuel."* In fact, his wit 
often gained the mastery over him, and when he was aiming 
a blow at superstition, he inflicted a wound upon religion 
itself. I shall have occasion to refer again to this subject 
before I come to the conclusion of this work. But I may 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 288, edit. Bas. 



JOHN- EEUCHLIN. 277 

liere observe that if infidels, instead of anxious inquirers 
after truth, had abounded in the following age, in all pro- 
bability the engine which Erasmus employed to batter down 
the strongholds of superstition would have recoiled upon 
the defenders of the truth as it is in Jesus, and would 
have shaken to its foundation the rising fabric of Pro- 
testantism. 

Among the "Colloquies" of Erasmus is one of a different 
kind, entitled the ''Apotheosis of Capnio," the fanciful 
Grsecized name of John Eeuchlin. We cannot discover in 
it one word of raillery. Reuchlin was unquestionably the 
most learned man in Germany of his day. He was the son 
of a burgess of Pforzheim. When he was a boy he had, 
not only by his musical voice, but also by his winning man- 
ners, attracted the notice of the Margrave of Baden, and 
liad been sent by him with his son to the University of 
Paris. There he made great progress^under John Weissel 
in Greek and Hebrew literature. He was also led by him 
to see that Scripture condemns purgatory, human satisfaction 
for sins, absolution, and many other dogmas, the reception 
of which the Eoman Catholic Church declares to be indis- 
pensable to salvation. Afterwards he endeavoured, as Pro- 
fessor at Tubingen and Heidelberg, to disperse the darkness 
then brooding over Germany. Having been sent on an im- 
portant mission to Eome in 14:98, he devoted all his spare 
time and money to the study of Hebrew under the learned 
Jew, Abdias Sphorm, and to the purchase of Hebrew and 
Greek manuscripts, by which he hoped ^to promote the 
^reat work to which he had determined to consecrate all 
his energies. On his return to Wurtemberg he published 
those works which greatly aided the progress of the Eeform- 
ation. He translated some of the Psalms, corrected the 
Vulgate, and was the first in Germany to publish a Hebrew 
^ammar and dictionary. Thus he unclosed the books of 



278 EEUCHLIN PEESECUTED BY THE DOMmiCANS. 

the Old Testament to the astonished and delighted view of 
his fellow-countrymen. 

Afterwards he became involved in a contest which proved 
a prelude to the Keformation. The Dominicans of Cologne, 
urged on by one Pfefferkorn, a Jewish convert, sought to 
destroy all works written in the Hebrew language, except 
the text of the Old Testament Scriptures. On these works 
the Emperor Maximilian asked Eeuchlin to give his opinion. 
He was strongly opposed to this wholesale destruction, and 
mentioned some which ought to be preserved, because they 
contained nothing to justify the pretext for committing 
them to the flames, that they were hostile to Christianity. 
In consequence of this opinion the books of the Jews, which 
had been taken away to be burnt, were restored to them. 
The Dominicans immediately revenged themselves upon 
Eeuchlin by raising against him a violent persecution. They 
threatened him with the Inquisition, and caused a court to 
be called at Maintz, at which his writings were adjudged to 
the flames as containing many heretical opinions. This 
contest became afterwards one between the lovers of light 
and the lovers of darkness, between the scholastic friars and 
their opponents ; for it was maintained in the course of the 
discussion which arose, that not only Jewish books, but all 
books not professedly Christian should be placed under ban 
and anathema, and should not be used in education. This 
contest gave rise to those celebrated " Letters of Obscure 
Men," full, as we have sefen, of stinging satire, in which 
Hutten held up to ridicule the monkish opponents of 
Eeuchlin, inasmuch as he causes them to perpetrate the 
greatest blunders, and to give the most absurd reasons, 
expressed in very bad Latin, for the continuance of that 
darkness which it was the great object of that illustrious 
man to scatter. This contest lasted for ten years. Ulti- 
mately the matter was carried before Leo X., who directed 



EEUCHLIN HONOURED BY ERASMUS. 279 

the Bishop of Spires to inquire into it. He declared Eeuch- 
lin innocent, and condemned the monks to pay the ex- 
penses of the process which had been instituted against 
him. 

Erasmus has been accused of doing little honour to Reuch- 
lin, and of having stood aloof from the contest between him 
and the divines of Cologne. In one of the "Letters of 
Obscure Men" he is taunted with not having come forward 
in defence of him. Erasmus, however, felt that from his ignor- 
ance of Hebrew he could not with any degree of authority 
mingle in the strife between the two parties. Writ- 
ing to Cardinal Wolsey, in 1518,* he says, "As for me, I 
never esteemed the Cabala and Talmud." He commends 
Reuchlin in the same letter, adding, " I never conversed with 
Reuchlin except once at Frankfort. We are only on those 
terms of civility which usually subsist, between men of let- 
ters ; though, if I had been his intimate friend, I should 
have no reason to be ashamed of it." He also urged the 
Cardinals St. George and Grimani, in 1515, to use their 
utmost influence in aid of the cause of Reuchlin.t He told 
them how grieved he was in common with all Germany 
that these frivolous proceedings should have been taken 
against one venerable on account of his age and services. 
If, however, it were true that he had done him little honour 
in his life, it will be admitted that he made him ample 
amends after his death, in 1522, in the account of his 
apotheosis, or reception into heaven, already referred to, 
given by a Franciscan to his friend Brassicanus, who, in his 
turn, gives it in conversation to his friend Pompilius. The 
following passages, with which I conclude this chapter, 
establish the truth of the preceding assertion. " Can you 
suppose that we have any reason to lament the death of 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 371, edit. Bas. f Ibid. pp. 65 and 70. 



280 THE "APOTHEOSIS OP CAPNIO." 

such a man? He has had a long hfe, if that be any 
addition to a man's happiness. He has left monuments of his 
virtue which can never perish. He has, by his good deeds, 
consecrated his name to immortality. Now, released from all 
evil, he enjoys heaven, and holds converse with St. Jerome. 
.... For the seed which he has sown, he is reaping an 
abundant harvest. In the meantime it will be our duty to 
cherish his sacred memory ; to embalm his name with our 
praises ; and ever and anon to address him with words like 
these : ' holy soul, be propitious to languages ; be pro- 
pitious to those who cultivate them; favour the sacred 
languages; destroy all wicked tongues infected with the 
poison of hell.' " 



THE REVOLT OF THE PEASANTS. 281 



CHAPTER X. 

THE REVOLT OF THE PEASANTS. — WORLDLY MOTIVES OF 
ERASMUS. — HIS INCOME. — OPPOSITION TO HIM IN FRANCE. 
— TREATISE ON MATRIMONY DEDICATED TO QUEEN 
CATHERIISE, AND OTHER WORKS. — (A.D. 1524—1526.) 

In the year 1525 a rebellion broke out among tbe peasants 
of Germany, which was greatly prejudicial to the cause of 
the Reformation. It spread like a mighty conflagration 
among the trees of the forest. No sooner do the flames 
catch one tree than they advance rapidly, burning up the 
beautiful foliage, until at length the forest is involved in 
one vast blaze, which illumines with a ruddy glow the 
firmament of heaven. This was not in the first instance a 
rehgious war. An examination of the demands of the 
peasants will serve to show us that, when it began, it was 
only one of those insurrections of the cultivators of the soil 
against their feudal lords, of which we often read in the 
history of the middle ages. Goaded to madness by their 
accumulated wrongs, they had risen simultaneously against 
their oppressors. But no sooner had the enthusiast, Munzer, 
constituted himself leader of the armed rabble, than the 
war assumed a religious character. He pretended that he was 
armed with the sword of the Lord and of Gideon, and that 
he was commissioned to mow down, like the beatrded grain, 



282 THE EEVOLT OF THE PEASANTS. 

the armies of the Midianites. The motives of the insurgents 
were various. Some insisted on an absolute immunity from 
all government ; others asserted that their object was to 
establish a pure Church in Germany ; many were influenced 
merely by the spirit of sedition, and by the desire to obtain 
deliverance from the taxes and burdens which presse^d so 
heavily upon them ; while many perversely misunderstood 
Luther's doctrine of religious liberty, and deluded them- 
selves with the idea that they should obtain deliverance 
from the tyranny of their feudal oppressors. The mind 
recoils with horror from the contemplation of the atrocities 
of the peasants, which were only surpassed by the atrocities 
perpetrated in the suppression of the revolt. Erasmus says 
that one hundred thousand perished in this war.* The soul 
of Luther was much vexed by this rebellion. He denounced, 
in language so strong, the impiety and madness of these 
zealots, that he lost his popularity with the multitude. 
This rebellion served to alienate Erasmus still more from 
the Eeformation. It seemed to him to justify his gloomy 
forebodings that the principles of Luther must lead to civil 
convulsions, and to give him a reason for that cautious 
timidity which induced him to endeavour, by peaceable 
means, to remedy the disorders, and to remove the abuses, 
of the Eoman Catholic Church. We can have no doubt^ 
indeed, that the Reformation gave that impulse to the 
people which led them to seek deliverance from the iron 
yoke of bondage. But we are sure that, as Luther asserted, 
it served greatly to check their fury, and to preserve the 
fabric of the Church and the State from being shattered into 
fragments. We must remember, too, that if we argue from 
the abuse against the use, we must surrender our most 
valuable blessings; that if the timid policy of Erasmus 
had been followed, the Roman Catholic religion would have 
* Op. torn. iii. 888, F. 900, edit. Lugd. 



WORLDLY MOTIVES OF ERASMUS. 283 

retained'its ascendency in Europe; and that the Eeforma- 
tion could not, as I have stated before, have been accom- 
plished without those convulsions, civil and religious, which 
caused the earth to tremble to its centre, and seemed to 
many likely to dissolve society into its original elements. 

A letter, written at the beginning of the year 1525 to the 
learned Reformer, OEcolampadius, exhibits Erasmus in a very 
unfavourable point of view, for it shows the worldly motives 
by which he was unhappily influenced/'^ (Ecolampadius, in 
a preface to his Commentary on the Prophet Isaiah, had 
spoken of him as " our great Erasmus." This commenda- 
tion had given him the greatest off'ence; for it was, he 
thought, calculated to injure him with many of this world's 
potentates, whose good opinion he was anxious to possess. 
They would come to the conclusion that he held the same 
opinions with his eulogist. This letter begins in the following 
manner : "I pretend not to pass sentence on you; I leave 
that to the Lord, to whom you stand or fall. But I con- 
sider what do several great men think of you 1 the Emperor, 
the Pope, Ferdinand, the King of England, the Bishop of 
Rochester, Cardinal Wolsey, and many others, whose 
authority it is not safe for me to despise, and whose favour 
it is not prudent for me to disregard. You know very well 
that there are some who look upon you Reformers as 
heresiarchs and schismatics. Now, what will such persons 
say, upon reading in your ' Preface ' the words : ' Our 
Great Erasmus ?' Will not the consequence be that the 
dangerous suspicions of powerful princes, or implacable 
enemies, who had begun to think a little better of me since 
the publication of my ' Diatribe,' will be all revived f 

We cannot condemn in terms too strong this letter of 
Erasmus. If (Ecolampadius had praised him in private, he 
would have been delighted ; for he thought very well of him, 
* Op. torn. iii. ep. 728, edit. Lugd. 



284 (EOOLAMPADIUS'S VIEWS ON THE LOED's SUPPER. 

and was pleased to occupy a high place in his good opinion. 
But he fancied that the personages just referred to would be 
led to identify him with the Eeformers, and would deprive 
him of the pensions which he enjoyed from them, and of 
their patronage. Thus he thought that he might be re- 
duced to that state of evangelical poverty of which he speaks 
in a subsequent letter. Even Jortin, who was his great ad- 
mirer, is obliged to admit that " it is a despicable meanness 
to be afraid of being commended by those whom we secretly 
honour and value, lest we should give offence to others 
whom we esteem not, and lest we should suffer in our 
worldly interests."'^ This subservience to the great has left 
5, deep stain upon his character. 

But though in public Erasmus wished to disavow all con- 
nection with CEcolampadius, in his private letters to his 
friends he spoke in the highest terms of this eminent Ee- 
former. All students of the history of this period are aware 
that an angry controversy was at this time raging between 
Luther and Zuinglius on the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. 
Luther held that " the glorified body of Christ was to be 
found in all parts of the bread." Zuinglius, on the contrary, 
held that " the flesh of Christ is of immense utility to us, 
for it saves us from perdition ; but in so far as it is eaten 
by us, it is of no use to us at all." CEcolampadius, at length 
ashamed of having preached doctrines, the soundness of 
which he had begun to suspect, espoused the cause of Zuin- 
glius. He thus wrote to him from Basle : " That dogma of 
the real presence is the fortress and safeguard of their im- 
piety. As long as they shall keep to that idol none will 
be able to vanquish them."t He then entered the lists by 
publishing a work on the meaning of our Lord's words, 

* Jortin, vol. i. p. 370. 

+ DAubigne's *' Hist, of the Eeformation," vol. ii. p. 463. 



Erasmus's views on the lord's supper. 285 

<'This is My body." Erasmus, in a letter to P. Barbirius, 
highly commends this work, saying, " It] is so accurately 
written, and contains so many arguments and testimonies, 
that it might deceive the very elect."^' Again, writing to 
his friend Pirckheimer, he says, " The opinion of CEco- 
lampadius would not displease me, if the consent of the 
Church did not hinder me from accepting it. For I 
discern not what good an invisible substance can do there, 
or how it could profit any one if it were discernible. "f 
Again, writing to the same friend afterwards, in the year 
1527, he says, " I never said that this sentiment was the 
soundest. It is true that among some friends I went so 
far as to say that I could adopt that sentiment, if the author- 
ity of the Church had approved it; but I added, that I could 
by no means dissent from the Church. By the Church I 
mean the consent of the body of Christian people. For 
my part I spoke sincerely ; and I never doubted the truth 
of the Eucharist. What weight the authority of the Church 
may have with others I know not ; but with me it weighs 
so much that I could be of the same opinion with the Arians 
and Pelagians, if the Church had supported their doctrines.":|: 
In a letter afterwards written to Pelican, who spread the 
report that he held the same opinions with himself on the 
subject of the Eucharist, he very strongly condemns the doc- 
trines of the Eeformers. " I would rather be torn in pieces 
than profess the same opinions as yourself, and I would 
rather endure every evil than leave the world with this 
sin on my conscience."§ Language like the above needs 
scarcely any comment. These opinions often repeated have 
led many Protestants and Eoman Catholics to believe that 
he was sceptical as to the fundamental truths of Chris- 
tianity. 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 894, ed. Lugd. + Ibid. p. 941. 

t Ibid. p. 698, ed. Bas. § Ibid . p. 966, ed. Lugd. 



286 HIS "LINGUA." 

At this time Erasmus published his "Lingua," a treatise on 
the good and bad use of the Tongue, which he dedicated to 
Schydlowitz, Chancellor of Poland. It seems from some 
passages in it that he formed the plan of it in England."^ 
This discourse abounds with wit, and with ingenious cen- 
sures of the vices of the times, particularly those of the 
monks. It is full of anecdotes, illustrative of his subject. 
All immoderate swearers, liars, talkers, and slanderers, will 
find many lessons in this treatise, delivered with much wit, 
and in an agreeable manner. I have no space for extracts 
from the work, but I must strongly recommend it to my 
readers, who, I am sure, will derive pleasure and profit from 
the perusal of it. 

A short time before the publication of this treatise, Eras- 
mus had been anxious to secure the payment of the pension 
which, as I have said, had been promised to him by the Em- 
peror Charles V., before he left England in 1513. Hither 
to it had been paid, while he resided at Louvain. One 
condition was, however, annexed to the payment of that pen- 
sion, with which he was unwilling to comply, that he should 
return to the Low Countries. He pleaded that his debts would 
prevent him from doing so. He thus wrote to Carondelet, 
Archbishop of Palermo : " I live here (Basle) at a great ex- 
pense, because of my bad health, and my frequent illnesses, 
and I never was a good economist. I have contracted 
several debts, so that if my health would, my creditors per- 
haps would not permit me to depart."t We have reason, 
however, to believe that his debts were only an excuse for 
not going to Brabant. He felt also that if, in compliance 
with the urgent request of Charles, he should return, he 
would find difiiculties in the way of the payment of his pen- 

* Op. torn. iv. p. 551, edit. Bas. 
+ Op. torn. iii. p. 794, ed. Ludg. 



HIS INCOME. 287 

sion j for, he said, "the Emperor's Court is ever in"a state of 
poverty."* 

His circumstances were easy when he went to live at 
Basle, in 1521, and we have no reason to think that they 
had undergone any change since that date. He then de- 
scribes himself as possessing an annual income of 300 ducats, 
exclusive of presents made to him by his patrons. " I 
have," he said, " ceased to complain. I have enough to 
maintain myself comfortably, and something to spare for an 
indigent friend. "t We learn afterwards, from a letter to 
the Bishop of Augsburg, that in this estimate were included 
his two pensions from England, amounting to 200 florins an- 
nually, which were diminished to the amount of one-fourth 
part, by the merchants who remitted them^ and a pension 
which he had in Flanders, from a prebend which he resigned. J 
The pension from England was contingent on the life of 
the Archbishop ; for, in the same letter he says, "if he should 
die, I shall never see a penny more of it." " Thus," with 
the loss of his pension from the Emperor, and of the other 
which P. Barbirius had begun to intercept, he writes : 
" Erasmus will soon be reduced to a state of evangelical pov- 
erty j though, by the blessing of God, he is not altogether 
as yet in that condition." From a letter written in 1525, 
to his friend Goclenius, Professor of Latin at Louvain, it 
appears that he was not at all in want of money, for he 
made in it a sort of last will and testament. He left to 
Goclenius 400 florins of gold, and to other friends various 
smaller sums. "As for my plate and jewels," he adds, " I 
will soon dispose of them."§ 

Erasmus did not make anything by his works, notwith- 

* Jortin's " Life," vol, i. p. 480. 

t Butler's "Life of Erasmus," p. 138. 

X Op. torn. iii. p. 1292, edit. Lugd. § Ibid. p. 1422. 



288 EEASMUS A BAD MAITAGER. 

standing the enormous sale of them ; for in the profit arising 
from it, which could not have been large, as the expenses of 
publication, which the printers undertook, were great, it 
was considered beneath the dignity of an author to share. 
He had unquestionably great expenses. He had to employ 
transcribers of his works, and to keep horses for the purpose 
of travelling himself from place to place, to consult books 
and manuscripts, and to send messengers to collect his pen- 
sions. He was, however, a bad manager, and extravagant. 
One instance of his extravagance we have, in a letter to 
Warham, in 1521 : — " I think myself," he says, "a sort of 
nobleman, for 1 maintain two horses, who are better fed, 
and two servants who are better clad, than their master."* 
We can have no doubt that the liberality of his friends 
supplied all deficiencies, and that he never had the least 
reason to fear that he should become dependent for the 
means of support on the precarious charity of strangers. 

The reason of his unwillingness to go to Brabant, is given 
in the following letter to his friend Pirckheimer : '' What 
you write is very true," he says, " that Luther promotes 
many persons. Luther makes Canons, Bishops, and Cardi- 
nals, and enriches others, whether they will or no ; but then 
Luther beggars a great many„ and me among the rest, to 
whom Margaret and the Emperor have promised the pay- 
ment of my pension, but it is on condition that I return to 
my own country. A hard condition ! for Egmond reigns 
there, a madman, armed with the instruments of death, who 
hates me twice as much as he hates Luther. His colleague 
is one Hulst, a sworn enemy to learning. These Inquisitors^ 
first fling men into a dungeon, and then seek for accusations 
against them. Of these things the Emperor is ignorant, 
and yet it were to be wished that he knew them,"t 

The truth was that though, as he informs Goclenius in 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 645, edit. Liigd. + Ibid. iii. p. 782. 



HIS UITWILLINGNESS TO LIVE m FEAIsTCE. 289 

tlie letter above referred to, he would sooner have gone to 
Turkey, than to Basle, if he had known the perfidious 
temper of the Germans, yet he knew not where else to go, 
for he was justly afraid of every place where the monks had 
any influence, because they continued to follow him with 
bitter and unrelenting hostility. At all events,- in that city, 
he was safe from their vengeance. He was unwilling for 
the same reason at this time to take up his abode in France. 
Francis I. had been for a long time anxious to secure his 
assistance in a college, which he wished to establish at Paris, 
for the purpose of teaching the learned languages. He was 
one of his warmest admirers, and even preferred him to 
Budaeus, considered by many at that time to be the most 
learned man in Europe. A rivalry had existed for some 
time between Erasmus and him, which was justly con- 
sidered as a contest for the primacy in learning. Posterity 
has decided in favour of Erasmus. It has admitted that in 
a knowledge of Greek, Budaeus may have surpassed him ; 
but that in general erudition, genius, and taste, Erasmus 
was greatly his superior. Budseus informed him in the year 
1516, that he was authorized by Francis to offer him a 
benefice with an income of a 1000 francs. As his friend, 
Outhbert Tonstall, afterwards Bishop of Durham, was then 
at Paris, he consulted him on the offers of the French King. 
Tonstall dissuaded him from accepting them. He was a 
little afraid even then of the rehgious animosity with which 
he was likely to be assailed at Paris, and he had some dis- 
trust of the King's constancy. The end of the matter was 
that he declined the flattering proposal. The offer of 
Francis was constantly renewed, but he was, in the year 
1525 and 1526 less likely than ever to accept them, for 
reasons which I shall now proceed to explain. 

In February, 1525, France was tilled with consterna- 
tion. Francis I. was defeated in the battle of Pavia. 

19 



290 CAPTIVITY OP FEANCIS I. 

After displaying heroic courage, lie surrendered his sword to 
Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, and was carried off a prisoner 
to Madrid. " Nothing whatever is left me," the King wrote 
to his mother, " save my honour and my life." The enemies 
of the Eeformers, who were anxiously watching for an 
opportunity of arresting the rapid progress which their 
opinions were making in France, determined to extract 
material of accusation against them from this heavy 
calamity. Acting in the spirit of those who endeavoured to 
stifle Christianity in its cradle by representing it as the 
cause of those calamities which had descended upon the 
nations, they aflirmed that because France had for some 
time nurtured heretics in her bosom, God was now pouring 
out on a guilty land the vials of His wrath. Their opinion 
was that the only way to deliver the King from the captivity 
which was to be considered as a judgment from God upon 
him on account of his leniency towards the Eeformers, and to 
save the kingdomfrom subjection to a foreign yoke, was to un- 
sheathe against them the sword of persecution, and to mow 
them down on the right hand and on the left. Noel Bedier, 
or Bedda, as he preferred calling himself, in memory, per- 
haps, of the venerable Bede, the syndic of the Sorbonne, 
and Lecouturier, chiefly known by his Latin name Sutor, a 
doctor of the Sorbonne, and a Carthusian, exerted every 
efi'ort to inflame the passions of the nation against the 
Reformers. Bedda was one of those whose element is 
strife. He delighted in searching out heretics, and making 
them before they existed. The mother of the King, Louise, 
who was now regent of the kingdom, was the more willing 
to listen to Bedda and Sutor, because she hoped, by the sacri- 
fice of a few heretics, to propitiate a Pontiff who had the 
power of raising Italy against the Emperor, and of compelling 
him to deliver Francis from his captivity. The Parliament, 
acted on by the impulse which had been given to the nation, 



PEESECUTION STIEEED UP BY BEDDA AND SUTOE. 291 

issued a commission to certain persons to prosecute those 
who were tainted with the doctrines of Luther. The first 
person whom they arrested was Briconnet, Bishop of Meaux. 
He had assailed the abuses of the Church, and had attacked 
the Sorbonne itself. By a shameful retractation, which has 
left an indelible stain upon his memory, he saved himself 
from the dungeon and the stake. Lefevre, another cele- 
brated Reformer, only escaped from his persecutors by 
becoming an exile from the land of his birth. Berquin,.of 
whom I shall speak more particularly hereafter, was the 
next person apprehended. He had learnt his heresy from 
the writings of Erasmus and Luther. jSTothing so much 
excited the anger of their persecutors as that the Reformers 
opposed the doctrine of human merit. " When I see," said 
Bedda, " these three men, Lefevre, Erasmus, and Luther, 
endued in other respects with so penetrating a genius, yet 
united in a conspiracy against meritorious works, and in 
favour of resting the whole weight of salvation on faith 
alone, I am no longer surprised that thousands of men, se- 
duced by these doctrines, have learned to say : ' Why should 
I fast, and martyrize my body f Let us banish from France 
this odious doctrine of grace. There is a dismal deception of 
the devil in that neglect of merits."* 

But the eager desire of Bedda and his colleagues for 
victims still remained unsatisfied. The Bishop of Meaux 
had apostatized ; Lefevre had gone into exile, and Berquin . 
might, through the intercession of Margaret, the sister of 
the King, yet be delivered from his persecutors. They, 
therefore, resolved to attempt a higher aim. They would 
attack Erasmus, whom they considered as the great arch- 
heretic. If they could induce the Sorbonne to censure his 
writings, they might hope to arrest the onward march of 

* D'Aubigne's ''Hist, of the Eeformation," vol. ii. p. 622. 

19—2 



292 Erasmus's contest with sutoe. 

the Reformation in France. Sutor began the attack by a 
publication in which he brought against his opponents all 
the unjust charges, and heaped upon them all the abusive 
epithets which malice could invent, or the vocabulary of 
vituperation supply. Erasmus answered him in an " Apo- 
logy" dedicated to Joannes Selva.* From a passage in the 
dedication it appears to have been written when Francis I. 
was made prisoner in 1525. The contest was like one be- 
tween a giant and a pygmy. Sutor was completely crushed. 
Erasmus represents him as the greatest fool with whom 
he w^as ever called upon to contend. In this " Apology " 
lie says, " I have learnt something from Lee ; Latomus has 
brought before me some things which deserve careful con- 
sideration ; Stunica has taught me much, though foreign to 
the subject with which he was occupied. From this very 
wordy book of Sutor's, I do not see what can be learnt 
except mad calumnies. Speaking of matters which he does 
not understand, he reminds one," said Erasmus, " of the 
old proverb: 'Ne sutor ultra crepidam.' ' Let the cobbler 
keep to his last.' " 

Bedda immediately rushed to raise Sutor from the ground 
to which, in the unequal wrestling match_, he had been 
mercilessly flung by his powerful antagonist. He stood 
forward in front of him and challenged Erasmus to a mortal 
combat. He exerted his malice in collecting various 
passages from the writings of Erasmus which seemed to 
favour the Lutherans, and wresting them altogether from 
their connection with the context, translated them into 
French, and published them in a volume, which he circulated 
through France. Erasmus immediately accepted his chal- 
lenge, and published his defence. t On finding that Bedda 
returned to the charge in a work professing to expose the 

* Op. torn. ix. p. 742, edit. Lugd. + Ibid. p. 453. 



HIS ATTACK ON BEDDA. 293 

errors of Faber and Erasmus, the latter wrote a most 
elaborate reply to him.'"' According to his calculation, 
Bedda, on a very moderate computation, had been guilty of 
a hundred and eighty-one lies, three hundred and ten 
calumnies, and forty-seven blasphemies. "If the Church," 
said he, " is not supported by a better Atlas, it is high time 
to write its epitaph. I have nothing in common with the 
sentiments of Luther ; but it cannot be denied that the 
doctrine of Luther approaches more nearly to the true 
spirit of Christianity than the theology of Bedda. For 
what is it that Bedda has in view? It is this, to make 
men set a great esteem on scholastic quibbles, vain sub- 
tilties, human ordinances, the worshipping of images, 
the diiferences of meats and of garbs, their own works, 
and a holy week spent in acts of penance. As to 
true evangelical piety, he says nothing at all about it, 
or he talks so coldly that any one may see that what he 
says proceeds not from the heart. We ought, he says, to 
place our confidence in God, and principally in our own 
good works. 

" Nothing can be so well expressed that this man will not 
wrest and distort it. . . . What is more venerable and holy 
than the Lord's Prayer 1 If you will give me leave, I will 
play the Bedda upon it. ' Our Father. . . .' This smells 
of Arianism, as if the Father alone were to be invoked as 
the only true God ; for here is no mention made of the 
Son and the Holy Ghost. 'Our Father' — dangerous 
words ! — since Christians may ima,gine that they are the 
children of God by nature, even as Jesus Christ. It 
should have been, ' Our Father by adoption, and not by 
nature. . . .'" 

Erasmus published another reply to some remarks of 

* "Desiderii Erasmi Supputatio Errorum in Censuris Beddae." 
Op. tom.ix. p. 515, edit. Lugd. 



294 HIS LETTER OF REMONSTEANCE TO THE SORBONNE. 

Bedda, from which it appears that the Syndic was stung to 
the quick by the manner in which the former attacked 
him. 

But these "Apologies" proved of no avail. Eoused by the 
vehement accusations of the fanatical Bedda and his asso- 
ciates, the Sorbonne prepared a grave censure for the illus- 
trious writer. Erasmus was overwhelmed with consterna- 
tion. His attempt to conciliate both parties had altogether 
failed of the wished-for success. Roman Catholics, as well 
as Protestants, were now assailing him with merciless ran- 
cour. He addressed a letter of vehement remonstrance to 
the Sorbonne.* "I hoped," he writes, " that if I had been 
beaten down in ray conflict with the Lutheran faction, I 
should have found with you a quiet haven and a safe refuge. 
But now you send forth bitterer attacks upon me than have 
ever been written by any of your members against Luther. 
Meanwhile, in resolving not to depart from the Church, I, 
who was once very popular with the Germans, have made 
myself most hateful to them. I have provoked Luther, 
like a venomous beast, to attack me. I have for some time 
been obliged to submit to the murmurs, the threats, the re- 
proaches, the defamatory and furious libels of the whole 
faction, which is more powerful than any one would believe, 
and increases in strength daily. I engaged in a work to 
which my strength was unequal, but I obeyed the Pope, 
the Emperor, and the Princes. And as if it were not enough 
to be attacked by the Lutherans, I have been obliged to 
contend with the Zuinglians, who, on the question of the 
Eucharist, differ from them While I was thus en- 
gaged according to my ability in a matter in which your 
learning ought to have aided me, the Sutors and the Beddas 
attack me from behind. If you shall allow such books to 

* Jortin, vol. ii. p. 492. 



THE SALE OF BEDDA's BOOK PROHIBITED. 295 

l)e printed as these men write against me, and if mine 
sliould be prohibited, certainly they will have gained the 
victory. This, however, is not to refute me, but to bear me 
down by tyrannical violence." .... 

He addressed, also, a letter to the King, in which he 
made the following attack upon the fanatical doctors of 
the Sorbonne. " They make a pretence of religion," he 
said, " but they aspire to tyranny. If the prince shall not 
in everything submit to their will, they will say that he is 
a heretic, and that he ought to be deprived of his kingdom 
by the Church."* This passage seems almost like a pro- 
phecy of the murder of Henry IH. of France, which was 
instigated b}'" them. He also asked the King to restrain the 
fury of Bedda and Sutor. 

Erasmus did not address himself to Francis in vain. The 
King issued an edict prohibiting the sale of Bedda's book. 
But he could not, as we shall see hereafter, save him from 
the censure with which he was threatened. The preceding 
history, while it shows that Erasmus could not safely take 
up his abode in France, will also show how little inclined 
he was to imitate that Saviour who, " Avhen He was reviled, 
reviled not again ;" how completely his boasted scheme of 
conciliation had failed of success, inasmuch as he was 
abused by all parties ; and will furnish another instance of 
that timidity which led him to shrink from suffering or 
sacrifice for Christ's sake and the Gospel's, and of that love 
of the good opinion of men, which led him, when danger 
threatened, to seek protection from the highest and mightiest 
of this world's potentates. 

Erasmus published several devotional and other works in 
the years 1525 and 1526, besides his treatise on the 
■" Tongue." His " Christian Widow," published in the last 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 944, edit. Liigd. 



296 THE TEEATISE 01^ CHRISTIAN MATEIMONT. 

year, was written in honour of Maria, sister of Charles V., 
whose husband, the King of Bohemia, was killed prematurely 
in battle. But his book on '' Christian Matrimony " was the 
most remarkable work* of that year.* It was dedicated to 
Catherine of Arragon, the Queen of Henry VIII. He had 
a very exalted opinion of this illustrious and unfortunate 
lady. He thus speaks of her in a letter to her royal hus- 
band, prefixed to the " Paraphrase on St. Luke's Gospel," 
which was published three years before this time ; " Your 
noble wife, a singular example of true piety to the- present 
age, scorning the trifles of women, spends a great part of 
the day in reading religious books, thus reminding other 
royal ladies who waste the greatest part of their time in 
gambling, or in similar amusements, how they ought to 
conduct themselves."t He says that she is remarkable, not 
only for her piety, but also for her learning ; and that she 
had so carefully educated her daughter Mary, that he could 
highly commend her elegant Latin episties.J The work 
above referred to contains many excellent observations on 
the choice of a partner for life, on the duties of husbands- 
and wives, on the means of strengthening love after mar- 
riage, and on other points relating to the marriage bond 
which are suitable to people in every age. Many were 
offended because he spoke in it more highly of marriage 
than of ceHbacy, and suggested that marriage is not a 
Sacrament.l It appears from the dedication, and from a 
letter to a friend, that, in compliance with Queen Catherine's 
request, he had promised to write this work some time ago.§ 

* Op. torn. V. p. 512, edit. Bas. + Op. toro. vii. p. 207, edit. Bas. 

t "Habemiis AiigUge Eeginam, fceminam egregie doctam, ciijus 
Maria filia scribit bene Latinas epistolas." Epist. Vergarre, Op. 
torn. iii. p. 621, edit. Bas. "Regina .... non minus pietate suspi* 
cienda qn^m eruditione." Epist. Bombasio, Ibid. p. 93. 

§ Ibid. p. 814. 



THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 297 

He had, however, hitherto been prevented by illness, by 
engagements, and by his troubles from fulfilling his pro- 
mise. The following short extracts will give the reader 
some idea of it. It will be seen that parts have a bearing 
on the question of the divorce which was then in agitation. 
" Although we ought to pay very great attention to every 
2)art of our daily life, we ought to be most anxious about 
those parts which not only have their own peculiar advan- 
tages or disadvantages, but are also the seed plot from 
which good or bad affections, opinions, and actions germi- 
nate. The husbandman, though he knows that in every 
part of his work he must show unslumbering watchfulness, 
yet looks especially after the- roots of his trees, doubtless 
because he is well aware that the preservation of the tree 
itself depends upon them. The officers also whose business 
it is, while they do not neglect the conduits, first of all look 
to the fountains, because if these are polluted, the public 
suffer greatly. The holy patriarchs, also, in the whole of 
whose life we may find rules for our guidance, wherever 
they settled, took the greatest care to provide themselves 
with foantains of pure water; they constantly waged war 
for them, and when they were closed up, again dug them. 
Their posterity always evinced a religious regard for them, 
as if they were sacred things bequeathed to them by their 
ancestors. Now, it appears to me that matrimony is the 
root and the principal fountain from which the greatest part 
of human happiness or misery proceeds. If proper care 
were taken in regard to the steps which lead to it, and to 
the whole of its subsequent course, all worldly affairs would 
be much better managed than they are at the present time. 
And yet I do not know how it has happened that scarcely 
any department of duty is more neglected by Christians 
than the one before us. We must think that the public 
welfare depends upon it, unless indeed we are prepared to 



298 THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 

maintain that it is a matter of no importance who were the 
parents of our public men, with what opinions their minds 
have been inoculated, after what example their character 
has been formed at home ; or unless we think that he who 
has led a disgraceful and wicked life in the midst of his 
household can properly manage the affairs of others. 
Accordingly, we find that the great philosophers of antiquity 
in general, but especially those whose works stand out from 
those of the common herd, Aristotle, Xenophon, and 
Plutarch, who, taking nature as their guide, have laid down 
certain rules for good living, have written on no subject in 
a more religious manner than on matrimony. Moreover, 
those who have framed rules for the proper regulation of 
our life, which have come down to us, have paid attention 
especially to matrimony, and have given many directions 
which tend to the holiness of wedlock, and the strengthen- 
ing of the marriage bond, and many rules for the proper 
education of children. Of this kind are the numerous laws 
as to betrothal, as to adultery and divorce, as to the juris- 
diction of parents over their children, and the duties of 
children to their parents. Among Christians, however, 
less attention has been given to matrimony than it de- 
served."''" 

He afterwards makes the following observations on 
divorce : '^ No human law punishes a treacherous or un- 
grateful friend ; but who does not detest the betrayer of 
friendship, and the man who has shown ingratitude to those 
who have conferred favours upon him ? The civil law does 
not punish this wickedness, because no punishment can be 
devised equal to the offence, and because the execration of 
the public is considered as a sufficient chastisement. It is 
baser to be unfaithful to a friend, than to break a legal 

* Op. torn. V. p. 513, edit. Bas. 



THE TREATISE ON CHEISTIAN MATEIMONY. 299 

contract, because friendship is cemented without bonds, 
without witnesses, without pledges ; by faith alone, and by 
mutual affection. Nor can a man be bound more closely by 
any bonds, than by disinterested kindness. But where can 
there be a closer union of souls, where a more certain trust 
than in matrimonj^, where each willingly comes into 
the power of the other, in a measure surrendering per- 
sonal liberty, and where the world is so far from entertain- 
ing the idea of divorce, that it is a bad omen even to name 
it in connection with the marriage ceremony? Although 
among the Jews and the heathen nations, the laws seem to 
give men the power of divorcing their wives, yet by 
the common feeling of mankind, divorce has always been 
placed in the same category with ingratitude and the 

betrayal of friendship ATherezjii^rce takes^a£-e^ 

thereJha^n.Qi'^er been a real marria^e.^ Jf the observation is 
correct that a friendship which can come to an end has 
never been a real friendship, we may say with much greater 
truth, that a marriage which can be dissolved, has never 
been a real one. I apply the word real to that union which 
is cemented by real affection between those who are ecjually 
virtuous. Now a bond which is created by our mental 
qualiiies is scarcely ever broken."* 

He afterwards thus speaks of the choice of a partner 
for life ; " My first direction is that you should pray 
earnestly for a right and happy judgment. Then you 
should consider wdiat your aim should be ; a right 
or wrong choice depends upon it. Those who choose 
a son-in-law or a daughter-in-law, chiefly on account of their 
wealth or their age, or because the one or the other belongs 
to a noble family or a powerful party, often bring about a 
most unhappy marriage, for the happiness of wedlock 
depends chiefly on a properly assorted union, and on a 
* Op. torn. V. pp. 515—517, edit. Bas. 



300 THE TEEATISE OlSr CHEISTIAN" MATEIMONT. 

perpetual harmony between those who are virtuous and 

equals in birth I must own that not without 

reason is ' that saying commended, ' Marry an equal ;' 
for as, according to the proverb, equals are most easily 
brought to associate with equals, so they remain in the 
closest union. This equality is not to be estimated by 
wealth only, but by advantages of every description. 
In making this calculation, we must first of all take into 
account mental qualities, then personal endowments, 
then what may be said to be external to both of them. 
With regard to the first, an order of a certain kind is to be 
observed. There are mental sifts which do not necessarily 
render men good, as docility^ a good memory, learning, 
eloquence, shrewdness, quickness, because these may be 
abused, and applied to base purposes. But chastity, 
sobriety, temperance, modesty, truth, prudence, faith, 
vigilance, wherever they exist, at once make a man 
happy. If the woman possesses in the least degree any of 
these qualities, you may indulge the hope that her character 
may be made to resemble your own ; and this hope will 
become certainty if to a good natural disposition a good 
education should be added. We may form our opinion of 
vices in the same manner. There are certain mental 
qualities which, as men say, are inscribed on the very 
forehead, as chastity, gentleness, modesty. The con- 
versation, however, is the most certain indication of the 
state of the mind. ^ Speak, young man,' said Socrates, 
' that I m.ay see you / for the philosopher had his eyes in 
his ears, not in his face. Many think it enough to have 
seen the young woman whom they wish to marry ; if, how- 
ever, they really desire to see her, let them converse with 
her, that they may not be deceived in her ; let them care- 
fully inquire amongst whom, and in what manner, she has 
been brought up. It is of great importance that she should 



THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 301 

have been well-born ; but it is of far greater consequence 
that she should have been properly educated. It not 
unfrequently happens that we see young men and maidens, 
who have the very best parents, and are remarkable for 
their natural endowments, who have yet, through the neglect 
of their education, so far degenerated from their former 
selves, tliat they seem worse than changelings. On the 
other hand we see illegitimate children v,^ho have been 
brought up carefully in a good family, surpassing in personal 
qualities those of better birth than themselves. We must 
consider also, not only what are their natural endowments, 
but also how to adjust them; for those wlio are exactly 
alike do not always suit one another. If a young man 
should be naturally somewhat sluggish, ho wants a wife of 
an active disposition. If the husband be inclined to extrava- 
gance, he should have a frugal wife, who will limit his 
expenditure. If he should be of an ardent character, he 
will want a wife accustomed to self-restraint, who knows at 
times how to yield, and to comply with his wishes. 
Different qualities of this kind are found even amongst 
those who are naturally good; which, unless they are 
properly blended together, make a marriage unhappy. 

" In considering the gifts of the mind, we must see first 
of all how they have conducted themselves towards their 
parents, and how they have discharged their duty towards 
God. For those may be trained to every virtue who have 
learnt true piety. . . . He who wishes to choose a good wife 
must first become a good man. In forming our judgment 
we must have regard to the advice of our elders or our pa- 
rents, not only because love, a blind judge as men call him, 
usually imposes on young men and maidens, but also because 
those who are advanced in life, and have a larger knowledge 
of the world, can form a better judgment than the young 
who are led more by their carnal appetites than by reason,. 



302 THE TREATISE OIT CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 

and whose ignorance engenders a blind confidence, and ex- 
poses them the more to danger because they do not appre- 
hend it. To love, had qualities often seem to be good ones. 
Violence and ferocity in a suitor are dignified with the name 
of bravery ; extravagance is called liberality. In the same 
manner in a young woman immodest repartee or banter is 
called sprightliness, and lasciviousness, which exhibits itself 
in the eyes, the gait, and in every gesture, is considered as an 
indication of affability or courtesy. Some there are who 
think well of a female if at an entertainment she eats and 
drinks as little as possible, not knowing that she has made 
a good meal before she came to it ; if she does not hold out 
her left hand where she ought to use her right hand ; if she 
touches what she eats with the tips of her fingers ; if, when 
she laughs, she does not show her teeth. They imagine 
that a female who has been carefully instructed in trifles of 
this kind is a suitable wife for them. Nay, rather goodness 
must be deeply seated in the mind, and must exhibit itself 
without disguise in the forehead, the eyes, the countenance, 
and in every movement of the body."* 

He thus speaks afterwards of personal beauty. " Of this 
men judge very absurdly. Beauty and youth are the first 
considerations, which, if they are the only reasons for our 
love, cannot ensure its continuance. For since the flower 
of youth is very short-lived, and beauty of form, not only 
from the advance of years, but also often from other causes, 
is sure to decay, love must perish also, where the personal 
charms, in which it had its origin, have ceased to exist. 
Love, therefore, which we wish to be enduring, must de- 
pend upon advantages which are independent of the circum- 
stances of our outward condition, and are unaffected by the 
progress of years. Hear, Christian suitor, the opinion of 
the wise man,t ' Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain ; 

* Op. torn. V. p. 549, edit. Bas. + Prov. xxxi. 30. 



THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 303 

"but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be 
praised.' When you are ravished with personal attractions^ 
you are loving a rose which must soon fade. A beautiful 
skin is often like a false dye, hiding the deformity of the 
mind. Why then do you keep your eyes fixed on the out- 
ward appearance 1 Make use of the eyes of the pliilosopher 
and look at the beauty of the soul. That by itself is suffi- 
cient to unite us in perpetual love. But if beauty of the 
body be added to it, like gold placed on a jewel, we must 
not reject the gift of God, only taking care that we do not 
set too high a value on it. The soul which fears God, and 
breaks none of His commandments, has neither spot nor 
wrinkle. What does it matter if the skin has not a blemish 
when the whole soul is defiled with the spots of sin ? . . .* 
The eye which sees only the beauty of the body, is not the 
eye of the philosopher. He, through the veil of the flesh, 
sees the beauty of the soul and fixes his love upon it. For 
modesty, simplicity, the countenance itself, the general ap- 
pearance, are a kind of sermon to a wise man. . . .t Hear 
what the prophet says : ' All flesh is grass, and all the goodli- 
ness thereof is as the flower of the field. The grass wither- 
eth, the flower fadeth : but the word of our God shall stand 
for ever.' J These things the prophet is directed not to 
speak, but to cry aloud to deaf men. Now what is personal 
beauty, but the flower of grass ? But you hear of another 
kind of beauty which shall bloom even in extreme old age : 
* The word of our God shall stand for ever.' Where the 
word of God flourishes, you find perpetual grace and beauty, 
ensuring a love which shall never die."§ 

The above translation will, I imagine, convey to the 
reader a correct idea of a treatise which extends, in Latin, 
over 90 pages in the Basle folio. We may observe in 

* Op. torn. V. p. 564, edit. Bas. t Ibid. p. 551. 

J Isai. xl. 6, 8. § Op. torn. v. p. 554, edit. Bas» 



204< QUEEX Catherine's divorce. 

various passages, allusions to the peculiar circumstances of 
Catherine of Arragon. The following, for instance, seems 
like an exhortation to the king : '' If her beauty and strength, 
decay, let her still be dear to you, provided her character is 
without spot or wrinkle."* Now the historian informs 
us 'Hhat the Queen was older than the King by no 
less than six years; and that the decay of her beauty, 
together with particular infirmities and diseases, had 
contributed, notwithstanding her blameless character 
and deportment, to render her person unacceptable to 
him."t His observations on divorce will be read with much, 
interest in their connection with her. When his treatise 
was written he thought that, as I have stated, "where 
divorce takes place, there has never been a real marriage." 
Many years afterwards he says, in a letter to a friend, that 
lie is not a little disturbed on account of the commotions 
which had long attended the divorce.^ He says at first 
that no one can say that he has expressed approbation or 
disapprobation of it, assigning as his reasons his post as 
counsellor to the Emperor, gratitude to Henry VIII., and 
friendship to Sir Thomas Boleyn.§ He states in another 
.letter that the matter had been under deliberation for 
eight years, and insinuates that the Court of Eome did 
not think it desirable to expedite it, as the delay served to 
fill her coffers. || Our immortal bard has represented Henry 
VIII. as expressing the same opinion : 

*' I may perceive 
These Cardinals trifle with me : I abhor 
This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Eome."^ 

* Op. tom, V. p. 585, edit. Bas. 

+ Hume's *' History of England" (The Student's Hume), p. 263. 
X "Doleo res Anglise spectare ad graves tumultus." Knight's' 
*' Life," p. 255. 
§" Letter to Damianus a Goes," Op. tom. iii. p. 1471, edit. Lugd. 
II Knight's ♦* Life," p. 255. U Shakespeare's "Henry VIII." 



Erasmus's letter to queen Catherine. 305 

He says also, " If the Pope should pronounce that it is 
not a lawful marriage, first of all he will offend the Emperor, 
and then he will condemn the Roman See which has given 
a dispensation contrary to law." Afterwards he does give 
an opinion on the subject. With his usual vacillation he 
takes a totally different view of divorce from that which he 
had expressed in the " Treatise on Matrimony," and says in 
the letter just referred to: "The King not without reason 
has a scrupulous conscience, when two hundred doctors have 
plainly proved by scriptural arguments that this marriage is 
contrary to the laws of God and man." He adds, " Some- 
thing else troubles the King in connection with this matter, 
which he does not wish to be mentioned." 

The following extracts from a letter to the Queen, exactly 
suited to her state and circumstances, in which he plainly 
refers to the divorce, may be interesting to the reader.* It 
was written two years after the publication of the " Trea- 
tise on Christian Matrimony." " Most uncommon it is to 
see a female brought up amid the pleasures of a Court, the 
favoured child of prosperity, which often spoils those who 
have been most carefully trained, deriving comfort from 
holy prayers, and from the study of the Sacred Scriptures. 
. . . Whoever truly loves God fixes the anchor of his hope, 
not in the barren sands of a transitory world, but on Christ 
Jesus our Lord, that solid rock which can be shaken by no 
billows. He is the Spouse of pious souls, in that degree 
common to all, that no husband is more the peculiar pro- 
perty of his wife, than He belongs to, and is present with, all 
His followers. He who rests with full confidence on His 
bosom, and casts all his care on that God who continually 
watches over him, is calm and happy in the midst of worldly 
commotions. The soul wliich has given up itself altogether 

* Op. torn. iii. p 646 edit. Baa. 

20 



306 EEASMUS'S LETTEE TO QUEEN CATHEEINE. 

to this Bridegroom, rejoices not less in adversity than in 
prosperity. . . . Christ is often kinder to us when He visits 
us with afflictions than when He soothes us with soft 
dehghts. Prosperity is more pleasant to a man, but very 
often adversity is more profitable to him. There is no way 
to heavenly glory but through the cross. This path is com- 
mon to all ; whether, as Horace says, ' we are kings or poor 
husbandmen.' O illustrious Queen, and singular example of 
piety, may the Lord Jesus, the fountain of all happiness, 
breathe through your soul a holy calm, a pure and lasting 

joy!" 



DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ERASMUS AND THE LUTHERANS. 307 



CHAPTER XI. 

ERASMUS AT ENMITY WITH THE REFORMERS. — HIS LOVE 
OF FAME. — CONTINUED OPPOSITION OF THE MONKS. — 
HIS " CICERONI ANUS." — DEPARTURE FROM BASLE TO 
FRIBURG.— LOUIS DE BERQUIN. — (A.D. 1526-1530.) 

We are delighted when we see Erasmus, at the beginning 
of the Reformation, laying bare the secret chambers of 
iniquity, unfolding abominations which shunned the face of 
day, lashing with Ms wit and satire, that thrice-knotted 
scourge, a debauched, indolent, and avaricious clergy, and 
sharpening that sword of the Spirit with which others have 
vanquished the confederated legions of darkness. Judging 
from these antecedents, we might naturally suppose that he 
would have made common cause with the Lutheran Reformers 
in their terrible struggle with their foes. But a gulf separated 
him from them. He could not join them in making their 
own interpretations of Scripture the rule of faith, instead of 
the authority of the Church. He could not accept Luther's 
view of justification by faith in the imputed righteousness of 
Christ, which the latter considered an essential and funda- 
mental doctrine. I have shown that this was the case when 
I spoke of the " Enchiridion," and I shall adduce additional 
evidence of the truth of this assertion in the next chapter. 
He understood by faith in Christ, as we have already seen, 

20—2 



SOS REASONS OP HIS HOSTILITY TO THE EEFORMERS. 

the imitation of His example. He tells us in the " Para- 
clesis" that he would have us worship "the living and 
"breathing image of Christ " in the writings of the Evange- 
lists ; where, as we learn from the " Enchiridion," he under- 
stands by Christ " not an unmeaning word, but love, 
singleness, patience, and purity." He says in one of his 
*' Apologies," that he does not know what Luther means when 
he states that good works must follow faith. In fact, we 
gather from various passages that he considers that to be a 
Christian is not to be justified by faith in Christ, but to 
exhibit in the whole course of our life and conversation a 
transcript, however faint, of those graces and virtues which 
dignified and adorned the all perfect character of our Divine 
Master. ' . 

Other reasons may be assigned for his unwillingness to 
join the Lutheran movement. He thought, as I have said, 
that he saw in the war of the peasants a confirmation of his 
fears that the Reformation, as conducted by Luther, would 
lead to commotions which would have the effect of dis- 
solving society into its original elements. Thus, in his 
" Hyperaspistes," after venturing, as we have seen, on an 
unfortunate prediction, ''that no name under the sun would 
be held in greater execration than the name of Luther," he 
proceeds to say : " The beginnings of the mischief he has 
done we have already in the Peasants' War."* He became 
also very hostile to the Reformers on account of the 
incessant attacks which they made upon him, because he 
would not come forward and assail the stronghold of their 
foes. I think, as I have before said, that here they showed 
a great want of judgment ; for he was altogether unequal 
to work of this description. He tells us, too, that he dis- 
trusted the Reformation because it had produced a set of 

* Op. torn. ix. p. 1097, edit. Bas. 



HIS AGREEMENT WITH LUTHER ON SOME POINTS. 309 

fanatics who were as hostile as the monks to the study of 
profane literature;* who preached Christ with their lips, 
but not in their lives, which were often directly at variance 
with the plainest precepts of the Gospel. He should not, 
however, have blamed the party for the faults of individuals. 
His alienation from them was only gradual. He saw many 
excellences in them which he could not fail to admire. On 
many points, indeed, he felt that he could agree with 
Luther. He knew that he was right on the question of 
indulgences. In the " Praise of Folly " and the " Enchiri- 
dion," he has himself expressed the same 023inion on this 
doctrine. They agreed, too, in condemning confession, the 
superstitious ceremonies of the monks, the false trust in the 
yirgin and Saints, clerical celibacy, and other dogmas of 
Bomanism. Accordingly, we find that for some time Eras- 
mus treated the Eeformers with great candour, and con- 
demned every attempt to extirpate them by persecution. 
He wrote to the heads of the Church, declaring his agree- 
ment with Luther on many points, and recommending 
moderation. Even to Pope Leo, when he was full of fury, 
he wrote boldly, separating himself from Luther, but im- 
ploring him not to have recourse to violent msasures. In 
the same spirit he wrote to Luther, exhorting him to be 
moderate. He wanted, by peaceable means, to effect the Ee- 
formation of the Church, and to maintain its unity under the 
Pope. On the impracticability of this scheme, I have already 
expressed my opinion. When he attempted to moderate 
the anger of the contending parties, he might just as well 
have attempted to stay the hurricane in its desolating pro- 
gress, so that it should not lash into fury the waves of the 

* This, Luther himself regrets : " Plerique non solum sacras literas 
sed etiam omnes alias literas fastidiunt et contemnunt. Digni 
certe qui dvorjroLg Galatis conferantur." — Comment, in Epist. ad 
Galat. i. 6. 



810 HIS TIMIDITY. 

ocean, or uproot the giant oak, the monarch of the forest. 
But the fact that this attempt was made, is a proof of his 
generous and kindly feehngs towards the Reformers. 

When he found that he could not accept Luther's doctrine 
of justification, and that he could not for the reasons given 
above join the Reformers, he ought not, if he had any 
regard to his own consistency, to have ceased to lift up his 
voice as a trumpet against the corruptions of the Church of 
Rome. But here unfortunately we see a proof of that 
timidity which has tarnished the fame of services rendered 
to the cause of the Reformation in the early part of his 
career. He saw indeed fissures in the walls of the vast 
structure of Romanism. But he judged that they would be 
repaired, and that the building would continue to stand on 
a firm foundation. While, therefore, he saw much in the 
existing system which he strongly condemned, still he 
judged it wiser not to separate himself from it, and not to 
compromise his safety by casting in his lot with Luther and 
his associates. I know that some have quoted his own 
words in the " Spongia," in extenuation of his conduct : " I 
am ready to be a martyr for Christ if He will give me 
strength to be so ; but I am unwilling to be a martyr for 
Luther." They have said that he had before his eyes the 
terrible fate of Savonarola and of others who, though they 
had not been heretical in the same sense as himself, had 
fallen victims to the anger of the Popes. But it should 
be remembered, that though he could not die for^," Luther's 
paradoxes," as he calls them, he should have been ready to 
die for his own opinions. Savonarola continued to the close 
of his days to denounce the corruptions of the Church of 
Rome. Erasmus, however, from fear of the consequences, 
ceased to protest against them, and laboured to accommodate 
matters. 

The truth was that, as he said to Pace, " he had no incli- 



HIS FLATTERING LETTEE TO POPE CLEMENT. 311 

nation to die for the sake of truth." He was conscious that 
he had, by his satirical pubhcations, rendered himself 
obnoxious to a large proportion of the clergy. He therefore 
lost no opportunity of securing the good-will of the Pope 
and his Cardinals. Thus, when Clement YII. was raised to 
the Papal throne, he congratulated him in the most flatter- 
ing manner.* It gave him the greatest satisfaction, he said, 
to hear of his advancement. He was a man possessed of 
the qualities, both mental and bodily, wliich the very 
turbulent times required. In regard to himself, he could 
venture to swear, with Christ as his witness to his sincerity, 
that if his Hohness did only know how he had been solicited 
by great princes, and enticed by his friends, to join the 
Lutheran conspiracy against the Roman See, also how he 
had been provoked to do it by certain monks and divines, 
and how steadfastly he had resisted motives of every sort, 
he would not think him undeserving of his protection, but 
would punish those who had libelled him at Eome in the 
most scandalous manner. This author, he added, had picked 
out of his works a number of half sentences, and had most 
impudently misrepresented them. Undoubfedbj, if he could 
have foreseen the sectarians of the present cIgaj, he icoidd either 
have supp'essed many things lohich he had said, or ivritten the 
same in a different manner. In the later editions he had left 
out many things, for the purpose of not giving a handle to ill- 
disposed persons ; and icould readily have altered other expres- 
sions if any one had given him a friendly hint. On aU occasions 
he submitted himself and his writings to the Roman See ; 
and never should oppose its decisions, even if he thought 
them wrong : for he would suffer anything rather than be 
guilty of sedition. 

But Erasmus did not "svish that his connection with the 
Reformers should be altogether dissolved. He endeavoured 

* Op. torn. iii. ep. 670, edit. Lugd. 



312 HIS TOETUOUS COUKSE. 

for some time to pursue a middle course between the con- 
tending parties. To the truth of this assertion, a letter to 
Zuinglius, written in the very same year as the letter to 
Pope Clement, bears unequivocal testimony. He begins it 
thus : " Health, most excellent Zuinglius, I have been 
gratified by talking with you through your letter."* We 
find him then observing that many are as little pleased with 
the Pope as with Luther, and inveighing bitterly against 
the tyranny and cruelty both of bishops and of kings. 
What strange words are these from one w^io had been 
writing in the above strain to Pope Clement, and from one 
who, as we shall see directly, was constantly flattering 
kings ! Nay, he almost avows himself a Lutheran, saying, 
" I seem to myself to have taught all things which Luther 
teaches. ... I have refused every offer which was made 
to me to write against him. I am urged to do it by the 
Pope, by the Emperor, by Kings, by Princes, by very learned 
men, and my dearest friends. It is certain, however, that 
I shall not write at all, or that I shall so write as not to 
please those Pharisees." And yet in a little more than a 
year, he heaps upon Luther the most opprobrious epithets, 
and in about two years and a half, as we have seen, he 
represents himself to the Faculty of Paris as in full conflict 
with the Lutherans and Zuinglians. 

This tortuous course into which Erasmus was led by his 
love of the praise of men, and his fear of persecution, is not 
very creditable to him. If he had lived in the present day, 
when persecution, in its worst form, is not the portion of 
God's Church, and there are no strong temptations to with- 
draw men from their allegiance to their Spiritual Leader, he 
would probably have been happier in his own mind, more 
useful to the community, and would have occupied a higher 
place in the good opinion of succeeding generations. Living 
* Jortin, vol. ii. p. 489. 



EEASMUS AT EXIvIITT TTITH THE EEFOKZ.IEES. bio 

in a period of fierce controversy, lie endeavoured for a time 
to satisfy both the contending parties, to-day identifying 
himself M'ith one of them, to-morrow ^yith the other, till at 
length he lost the esteem and confidence of both, and all^ 
both Protestants and Eoman Catholics, believed him to be 
insincere; and till he had become so perplexed in his views 
of religious truth, that he was unable to give a very distinct 
account of them, or to say very decidedly on what foundation 
he was building for eternity. 

But at length Erasmus abandoned this feeble neutrality, 
and became the inveterate enemy of the Eeformers. He 
found himself, however, as we have already seen in the case 
of his treatise on "Free-will," much fettered in his opposi- 
tion to them by the very decided opinions which he had 
expressed on the great points at issue betw^een them and 
their opponents. This, no doubt, was a cause of that infir- 
mity of purpose, that timidity, that equivocation, and that 
resentment against them which he exhibited during the last 
sad years of his memorable career. 

We have seen that Erasmus most reluctantly yielded to 
the urgent solicitations of the potentates of Europe, and 
wrote the treatise just referred to, a work to which he felt 
that he was altogether unecjual. ^Ye have many instances 
of that vanity, that love of fame, and of the esteem of 
persons of rank and consequence, which led him, in comply- 
ing with their wishes, to do violence to his conscientious 
convictions. Long before the time of which we are now 
speaking, he thus wrote to his friend Battus : "' My equal 
can scarcely be found in the course of many centuries."* 
In a letter to Polydore Yirgil in the year 1527t he says, "I 
stand on a very good footing with the great. Clement YII. 
has already given me two hundred florins, and promises 
me all things. The Emperor and his Chancellor have 
* Op. torn. iii. ep. 94, edit. Liigd. t Ibid. p. 809, edit. Bas. 



814 HIS VANITY. 

written to me in the most friendly manner. I have drawers 
full of letters from kings, princes, cardinals, dukes, nobles, 
hishops, written with the utmost civility. I receive un- 
common and valuable presents from many of them." 

In another letter, written in 1530, he gives the following 
ostentatious account of his letters and presents from 
" bishops, from abbots, from kings, princes, and arch- 
bishops, all well-known men.'^ From the Emperor Charles, 
I have many letters written in a tone of affection. I attach 
more importance to them than to his generosity, to which, 
however, I owe a great part of my fortune. From the 
Archduke Ferdinand I have several very friendly, never sent 
without a present. How often has the King of France in- 
vited me to his country, and what liberal offers has he made 
me ! The King of England has given to me a proof of his 
kindly feelings towards me by sending to me of his own 
accord several letters and presents. His Queen, Catherine, 
the most excellent woman whom this age has produced, 
vies with him in this respect. Sigismund, the King of 
Poland, has sent me a letter with a gift, of royal value: 
Oeorge, Duke of Saxony, often addresses letters to me, 
never without a present. I may also mention William, 
Archbishop of Canterbury, Cuthbert, formerly Bishop of 
London, now Bishop of Durham, and John, Bishop of Lin- 
coln,t who besides letters more precious than jewels, usually 
send me every year, when I neither ask for nor expect it, a 
present, as a token of their friendship." He then mentions 
several other prelates who had sent him letters and presents, 
and continues thus : " A few days ago, Christopher Stadius, 

* Jortin, vol. i. p. 495. 

+ John Longland, Bishop of Lincoln, was confessor to Henry VIII. 
Erasmus considered him a person of great abilities. He dedicated 
to him some treatises of St. Athanasius, and an exposition of the 
85th Psalm. (Knight's "Life," p. 188.) 



THE ESTEEM IN WHICH HE WAS HELD. 315 

Bishop of Augsburg, a man of true nobility, and- remark- 
able for bis learning, made a journey of seven days to this 
place, which was not altogether a safe one, for no other 
purpose, as he told me, than that he might see Erasmus, or 
rather his shadow. He brought with him two royal cups, 
and two hundred golden florins. I have a closet full of 
presents of cups, of flagons, of spoons, of clocks, some of 
which are of pure gold. The number of those who give me 
presents daily increases, though I have never made an ap- 
peal to their generosity, plainly telling them that I have 
quite enough for my present frugal style of living, of which 
I am so far from being sorry, that I would rather take away 
from it, than add to it." 

We have many proofs, independently of his own testi- 
mony, of the esteem in which he was held by noble and 
distinguished individuals. He was often called by them 
the light of the world, and the glory of Christendom. 
Henry VIII, had, as we have seen, most unwillingly allowed 
him to depart from this country. By his desire he attended 
the meeting between himself and Francis I. on the Field of 
the Cloth of Gold. While striving for the empire, Charles 
V. and Francis I. competed for the honour of his residence 
in their dominions. A memorable letter, which he wrote 
to the former after the battle of Pavia, exhorting him to 
use his victory with generosity, shows very plainly the foot- 
ing of easy familiarity on which he stood with the Emperor."^ 
In a dialogue published about the same time he writes, " If 
I were Emperor, I should thus address the King of France : 
* My brother, some evil genius has kindled the war between 
us. Fortune has made you my prisoner ; she may make me 
yours. Your misfortune has led me to think of the mis- 
fortunes incident to humanity. The war has continued too 
long 3 let us begin another contest. I give you liberty ; 
* Butler's "Life," p. 133. 



816 FLATTERING LETTER TO HIM FROM CHARLES V. 

give me your friendship. Let the past be forgotten ; I de- 
sire no ransom. Let our only rivalry be who shall excel 
the other in good offices. He who shall conquer in this 
contest will win the noblest of triumphs.' " We have seen 
how Pope Leo encouraged him. He did not indeed fulfil 
his promises, chiefly, I believe, because he was wholly ab- 
sorbed in luxury and the fine arts. The Emperor Charles V. 
never cast ofi" his regard for the distinguished scholar. At 
the end of the year 1527, when Erasmus had become the 
adversary of the Eeformers, we find the Emperor himself 
writing to him and telling him how great was his satisfac- 
tion to have been informed by his letters that the madness 
of the Lutherans began to decline.''' " The whole Christian 
world," he said, " was indebted to him for having eff'ected 
that which neither Emperors, nor Popes, nor Princes, nor 
Universities, nor numbers of learned men had been able to 
accomplish." Notwithstanding this gross flattery, he tells 
him that he had allowed the Spanish Inquisition to examine 
his books, but that he had nothing to fear, as he was quite 
convinced of his orthodoxy. If, however, it should appear 
that he had unintentionally been guilty of any error, or 
had said anything which was ambiguous in his writings, he 
would certainly, when he was admonished in a friendly 
manner, explain it, and by removing everything which 
might offend weak minds, secure immortality to his works. 
In 1528^ Henry VIII. wrote the following letter to Eras- 
mus, which was designed to persuade him to return to his 
dominions.t He told him that he v/as much grieved to hear 
from Archbishop Warham that he was badly treated by men 
of a perverse mind, who were enemies not only to him, but 
also to Christianity itself ; that he thought it very disgrace- 
ful that a person whom he so highly esteemed for his learn- 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 1047, edit. Lugd. f Ibid. p. 1839. 



INVITATION FROM HENRY VIII. TO ENGLAND. 817 

ing and abilities should be in danger of his life, and nowhere 
safe from their malice ; that he had always been an admirer 
of him, hut more especially noio, ichen he had comefonuard loith 
so much vigour and skill in defence of Christianity. He added 
that, as he was determined to promote true religion in 
his kingdom, and bring it back to the primitive standard, 
that the word of God might be the test of it, so much the 
more concerned he was for him, lest, beino; taken out of the 
way, he should want that assistance which he was ready to 
-aiford him in the prosecution of his laudable design. He 
begged him to leave Italy and Germany, and to hasten to 
England, where he could assure him of a very kind recep- 
tion. He knew by experience how many friends and 
patrons he had in this country, and hoped that, as they 
joined him in asking him to come, so he would make good 
his former promise of choosing England for setting up his 
staff. 

Erasmus sent his answer through Sir Thomas More. It 
was to the effect that His Majesty's kind invitation gave 
him great relief amid all his perplexities ; but that it would 
become him more now to find out a place for his burial 
where he might be at rest, since he despaired of ib while 
living. He desired him to make his apologies to the King 
for not answering the letter. 

We can easily imagine that gross adulation of this de- 
scription from the mightiest of the monarchs of Europe, as 
well as the court which was paid to him by her other kings, 
her princes, her dignified ecclesiastics, her nobles, her 
learned men, her statesmen, and her warriors, would be a 
sore trial to the virtue of Erasmus, especially when we 
remember the circumstances of his birth, as well as his want 
of natural friends, and even of country. We can see that 
he might thus be induced, even contrary to his convictions, 
to come forward in defence of the established hierarchy, and 



318 HIS LOVE OF THE FAVOUR OF GREAT MEN. 

to endeavour to save Romanism from the destruction with 
which she was threatened. When, too, we find him flatter- 
ing this world's potentates, we know that we ought to 
remember the usages of the times, and the language in 
which it was the rule to address prelates and Sovereigns ; and 
to take into account his poverty, and his dependence upon 
their liberality for subsistence, and for the means of prose- 
cuting his studies. But when we have allowed their full 
force to these circumstancs, we canenot fail to see that his 
love of the praise of men detracts greatly from the value of 
his Christianity. Many sincere Christians have, like Eras- 
mus, felt that timidity which, if they had given way to it, 
would have led them, like him, to pay court to the mighty 
ones of the earth, in order that they might be preserved 
from persecution. I believe that one reason for the determi- 
nation of Erasmus to become the decided adversary of the 
Reformers was, that he felt that he might lose the favour of 
his great friends, and expose himself to danger, if he gave 
even the semblance of support to the cause of the Reforma- 
tion. He had thus induced them, as we have just seen in 
the case of Henry VIII., at this time to be quite profuse in 
their expressions of regard for him, and to distinguish him 
by numerous tokens of their favour. This is the reason 
why Sigismund, King of Poland, had at this time written 
to him. He had, in order to augment his protectors among 
crowned heads, followed the advice of John a Lasco, and 
sent a letter to him, in which he complimented the King, 
and recommended peace to Christian princes.* Sigismund 
in reply sent him a very courteous letter and a present, and 
kindly invited him to Poland. But there is this great differ- 
ence between Erasmus and the persons just referred to, 
that, while he allowed his timidity and his love of the 
praise of men to exercise full dominion over him, they 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 824, edit. Bas, 



CONDEMNATION OF HIS WORKS BY THE SOEBONNE. 319 

were deeply grieved on account of their besetting infir- 
mities, viewed them as hindrances to their spiritual pro- 
gress, and sought earnestly for that grace which alone 
could enable them to gain the victory over them. They 
constantly endeavoured to act up to their conscientious 
convictions. He, however, under the influence of the feel- 
ings just referred to, endeavoured to stifle them, and con- 
ciliated the favour of emperors and kings by paying court 
to them, and assuring them that he would never depart 
from his allegiance to the Church of Eome. 

The monks and divines continued to assail him with un- 
mitigated rancour, both in France and the Low Countries. 
From a letter of Alphonso Fonseca, Archbishop of Toledo, 
who kindly. ofi'ered him his protection, it appears that he 
was warmly attacked also in Spain.* In 1528 the Sorbonne 
at Paris at length published against him their censures. 
They were passed in the summer of 1526, but could not be 
issued till the approval of the other Faculties had been 
obtained. I have already given the decree as to the " Col- 
loquies." The members of that body extracted more than 
thirty propositions from them and the " Paraphrases," and 
censured them in the strongest terms. t They described 
him as a heretic and a demoniac. His defence, entitled 
" Declarationes ad Censuras Facultatis Theologise Parisi- 
ensis," is an admirable specimen of his great power of 
evasion and address.^ We find in it the language alter- 
nately of menace and submission. While he despised in 
Ms heart these Parisian theologians, he yet condescended ta 
make a kind of submission to them, and to o-vvn that he had 
said many things very incautiously in his writings. He 
also abused the Eeformers, and maintained that he had 
always been steadfast in his allegiance to the Church (an 

* Op. torn. ill. p. 565, edit. Bas. + Du Pin, iii. 240, 335. 

X Op. torn. ix. p. 813, edit. Lugd. 



S20 HIS AWK-WARD APOLOGY TO THE SORBONNE. 

assertion which is manifestly incorrect) ; but he admitted 
that he might have been guilty of serious errors while he 
was endeavouring to controvert their arguments. In the 
Preface, too, he shows his wonderful power of sarcasm ; for 
he expresses, in language which every one can understand, 
his great anxiety to uphold the dignity of the theologians of 
Paris. Such was the end of the pacific Reformation advo- 
cated by Erasmus. He had offended the Papists without 
leading them to give up one iota of their dogmas. It is 
true, indeed, that Francis I. strongly censured the conduct 
of the Sorbonne, and directed the Parliament not to allow 
these divines to print anything which had not been pre- 
viously submitted to its notice.* But still the majority of 
the mem.bers of the Roman Catholic Church did not believe 
the protestations of Erasmus that he was a loyal subject of 
their spiritual monarch, and ridiculed him on account of his 
awkward apology to the fanatical doctors of the Sorbonne ; 
while, on the other hand, the Protestants were full of indig- 
nation against him because, after having advanced some 
distance towards them, as if he were about to place himself 
under their banner, he had been induced, partly by the fear 
of persecution, to fall back into the ranks of their bitterest 
foes. 

One of his enemies, at the time of which I am now writ- 
ing, was the Prince of Carpi, a man of higher rank than 
Bedda, but not possessing the same power of doing mischief 
as that individual, who published two large works against 
Erasmus, in which he endeavoured to prove that he was 
neither a divine nor a theologian, and that to him ^vas to be 
attributed the disorder everywhere prevalent. In the midst 
of his controversy with him, in the year 1527, he lost his old 
friend Froben, the printer. His loss affected him deeply. 
He seems to have always anticipated his wants, and to have 
* Burigni's "Life," vol. i. p. 512. 



THE " CICEEOXIAXUS." 321 

never been better pleased than when he had surprised him 
with some token of his kindness and liberahty. He eulo- 
gizes him as one who had conferred a service on literature 
by printing books remarkable for their large type and their 
freedom from error, forming a perfect contrast in these 
respects to the works of printers even at Venice and Rome; 
as one too who esteemed no labour too great to be undergone 
in bringing before the public some good author, whose 
works were calculated to promote the onward march of 
religious, moral, or literary improvement.* 

In the early part of 1528 Erasmus published a treatise on 
the right pronunciation of Latin and Greek,t in which he 
shows, with great learning, that the methods usually adopted 
were incorrect. The mode which he recommends, though 
contrary to our own, is considered by many to rest upon 
right principles. This was accompanied by a remarkable 
work called "Ciceronianus,'"i which showed his scholarship to 
greater advantage than any by which it had been preceded. 
A sect called the Ciceronians had risen up at the close of the 
preceding century, when Erasmus was a boy, who tied them- 
selves down to a servile imitation of Cicero. They would 
use no word nor phrase which was not to be found in the 
works of the illustrious Roman. Erasmus ridicules them in 
the work before us. Nosoponus, the Ciceronian, is intro- 
duced, arguing with two friends, who, with the most delight- 
ful irony, express their approbation of his views, and gently 
dispute with him, hoping to cure him of his madness. This 
individual carries his admiration of Cicero so far, that he 
has read no book but Cicero for seven years; keeps three 
or four volumes of an enormous size, in which he has marked 
down the diflerent senses in which Cicero used his words, as 
well as the feet v/ith which he began or closed his sentences, 

* Op. torn. iii. ep. 922, edit. Lugd. 

t Ibid. torn. i. p. 913. t Ibid. p. 973. 

21 



822 THE " CICERONIANUS." 

seals his letters with Cicero's head, and has only Cicero's 
bust in his library. Erasmus tells a story in this work 
of the imposition practised upon the Ciceronians by some 
wits of this time. They attached the name of a German to 
a passage taken from Cicero, and showed it to them. The 
latter ridiculed it very much, and declared that it was bar- 
barous. They then produced something written only the 
day before, which they declared to have been composed by 
Cicero, pretending that they had found it in a very old 
library. Immediately they kissed it, and adored those di- 
vine and inimitable words of Cicero. He describes this sect 
also in a letter to a friend. * They could not endure to see 
the name of Christ in polite literature, " as if nothing were 
elegant which had not a heathen origin. Their opinion was 
that the words ' Jupiter Optimus Maximus,' have a more 
agreeable sound than ' Jesus Christus redemptor mundi ;' 
and 'Patres conscripti' than ' Sancti apostoli.' . . . These 
men account it more disgraceful not to be a Ciceronian than 
not to be a Christian, just as though, if Cicero were now 
alive, he would write on Christian subjects in the same 
manner as in the age in which he lived. What is the 
meaning of this detestable praise of Cicero ? I will tell you 
in a few words, but as it were in a whisper. It is a mere 
pretext for the revival of Paganism, which is dearer to them 
than the glory of Christ." Here again he shows his oppo- 
sition to the new Paganism already referred to, which in 
Italy accompanied the revival of classical studies. t The 
truth was, that Erasmus thought, as he has shown in the 
''Ciceronianus," that the determination to use only Ciceronian 
words was fatal to the introduction of Christian ideas into 
our works. He does not seem to have looked forward to 
the time when Christianity would have its own works in 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 1021, edit. Lugd. t See pp. 153, 154. 



THE " CICEEONIANUS." 323 

the languages of the different nations of Europe. He ad- 
mired, indeed, Cicero, as an elegant writer ; but still he 
thought it possible to write, as he has said in the letter just 
referred to, in a manner more expressive and solid, but not 
so lax and wordy. So far from being able to give a polish 
to what he had written, often he was not able, as he informs 
us, to read it a second time. The Cicero nians often spent 
three weeks or a month over a work, and that not a very 
long one, whereas he had often to finish a whole book in a 
single day. Yet he has obtained this commendation from 
a competent judge : " His style is natural and unaffected, 
and excellently adapted to every subject upon which he un- 
dertakes to write. The learned Dr. Worthington, speaking 
of the homely style of Thomas a Kempis, says that the 
Latin of that age was not so polished and restored to its 
purity and splendour, as it was afterwards ' by the stupen- 
dous diligence, and the unwearied labours of the incompa- 
rable Erasmus."* 

Few works produced a greater revolution in the literary 
world, or exposed the author to more abuse, than the " Cice- 
ronianus." The great point was whether Erasmus was right 
in asserting that the Ciceronians attached too much value 
to Cicero. A more unimportant one cannot well be ima- 
gined ; and yet if Erasmus had been guilty of the greatest 
crimes and enormities, he could not have been assailed in 
more abusive language than by Scaliger. He described 
him as a drunkard, a hangman, a parricide, a monster, a 
new Porphyry, a Luther, and an infidel. All this abuse 
preyed very much upon his mind. He thought that Scaliger 
had been urged by others to write against him, and made 
his conjectures known to the world. Thus he exposed him- 
self to new troubles. Scaliger thought himself unjustly ac- 
cused, and attacked liim with greater violence; but uni- 

* Knight's " Life," p. 202. 

21—2 



324 THE '' CICERONIANUS." 

versal indignation was expressed by tlie learned of all 
nations on account of his unjustifiable conduct. At length 
he was induced to address an apologetic letter to Erasmus, 
who accepted the apology just before his death. 

The following extract from Gibbon's works with refer- 
ence to this subject, may be interesting to the reader : — * 
" The object of this dialogue is to attack some blind admi- 
rers and copiers of Tully's style. In this attack he employed 
every arm both of argument and pleasantry. It may be 
divided into three parts. In the first Nosoponus, the Ci- 
ceronian, is introduced. His excessive devotion to Cicero, 
his three indices, his never writing except in the dead si- 
lence of the night, his employing months on a few lines, his 
religious concern about words, and his total indifference as 
to the sense, are highly and truly comic. In the second 
part Erasmus appears under the name of Bulephorus, and 
entering into great detail establishes victoriously that Ci- 
cero, though worthy of our imitation, is not over- worthy of 
it ; that so servile an attachment to any author destroys all 
originality of genius, and produces a set of tame writers, 
who will copy the faults, but who will never attain the 
perfection of the great model ; and that, finally, we should 
endeavour to speak as Cicero would do, if he had lived at 
the present time." 

Erasmus had been for some time uneasy at Basle. In a 
letter to a friend, in 1527, he says that he meditates flight, 
but knows not where to go.t He was often appealed to by 
the Eeformers among whom he lived, and he was afraid of 
being led to use expressions which might be considered 
heretical by the Eoman Catholic party. At the same time 
he was unwilling to leave a city where he had many friends, 
where he could have his books printed at an excellent 

* Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, vol. v. p; 259. 
+ Op. torn. iii. p. 636, edit. Bas. 



HIS EEMOVAL PROM BASLE TO FEIBURQ. 325 

printing-press, and where he was out of the way of his 
monkish persecutors. 

At the end of April, 1529, however, on the legal establish- 
ment of the Reformation in Basle, not without opposition, 
which was overawed by the firmness of the senate, he took his 
departure for Friburg, in Brisgau, in the territories of Fer- 
dinand of Austria. The magistrates and ministers of reli- 
gion at Basle, though Protestants, sensible of the honour 
which their city derived from his residence among them, 
endeavoured to induce him to alter his determination ; but, 
with his usual timidity, he would not comply with their 
request, because he was afraid that the Eomanists would 
accuse him of collusion with the Protestants, and of having 
been instrumental in securing the predominance of the 
latter religion in the city. King Ferdinand had given him 
a passport, and had invited him to his court. In one of the 
visits which he paid to Friburg, in February and March, 
1529, before he finally took up his abode in the city, he had 
a most gratifying reception. * The magistrates, the nobility, 
and the University went forth to meet him, paying him 
high compliments, and calling him the supporter and pro- 
tector of literature. The magistrates gave him a cup, ele- 
gantly wrought ; the College, a girdle embroidered with 
gold, and not inferior to the cup ; and, when he departed, 
some gentlemen accompanied him back to the gates of Basle. 
All the expenses of his journey were defrayed. He dwelt at 
first in a house which had been inhabited by Ferdinand, uncle 
to Charles V. ; but, as this proved too large for him, he 
purchased another, in 1531, vvdiich he repaired, or rebuilt at 
a great expense. He gives the following amusing account 
of his vexations, in a letter to a friend. t " If any one were 
to teU you that Erasmus, now nearly seventy years old, had 

* Burigni, vol. i. p. 450. 

t Op. torn. iii. p. 1200, edit. Lugd. 



326 LOUIS DE BEEQUIK 

married, would you not mark yourself at least halt-a dozen 
times with the sign of the cross? I know well that you 
would do so, and with reason. But now I have done some- 
thing which gives me equal trouble and vexation, and is 
equally uncongenial to my pursuits and inclinations. I 
have bought a house which is well spoken of, indeed, but 
which has cost me much. Who would despair of seeing 
the rivers flowing back to their sources, when they heard 
that Erasmus, who had hitherto made literary ease the 
great object of his life, had become a bargainer, a buyer, a 
contractor, a builder, and instead of conversing with the 
muses, has dealings with workmen, carpenters, ironmongers, 
stonemasons, glaziers ?" 

Though Erasmus never joined the Eeformers, yet he had, 
by his writings, led others to cast in their lot with them, 
who afterwards gave very plain proof of the reality of their 
religion, by being faithful unto death to their Divine and 
adorable Eedeemer. This was the case, amongst others, 
with John a Lasco, a nobleman of Poland, who lived and 
boarded with him for some time, at Basle."' But the sad 
history of Louis de Berquin, affords the most striking confirm- 
ation of the truth of our assertion. He was a gentleman 
from Artois, and had resided for some time at the Court of 
Francis I. To use the words of Erasmus, " the purity of 
his life, his wonderful devotedness to his friends, his liber- 
ality to the poor,"t and as we learn from another source of 
information, "his great erudition,"! served to distinguish 
him in a remarkable manner from the rest of the nobility. 
He was also, as we learn again from the same letter of 
Erasmus, conspicuous for his " strict observance of the fasts, 
feasts, and masses of the Church of Rome, and he had in the 

* Jortin, vol. i. p. 379. t Ibid. p. 476. 

J Guillard, " Hist, de Francois 1^'-" 



HIS TEANSLATION OF EKASMUS'S WORKS. 327 

first instance a great horror of heresy." AVe might there- 
fore naturally suppose that he would he most unlikely to 
separate from her communion. But he utterly abhorred 
that ecclesiastical tyranny of which Erasmus supposed 
Eedda to be the incarnation, when he said " I am fighting 
with the ecclesiastics, or rather with the Beddaics, for in 
Bedda alone there are 3000 monks."* He could not, as 
Erasmus says, ^' even wish to be guilty of an act of injustice 
himself, and could not therefore endure the perpetration of 
it by others." Thus the violence and the unjust proceed- 
ings of Bedda inflamed him with indignation. In opposing 
his tyranny he was led to inquire after truth. While he 
was in this state of mind he met with some tracts of Eras- 
mus, as his " Praise of Marriage," his " Christian Soldier's 
Manual," and his "Complaint of Peace," which he trans- 
lated into French. As Berquin had declared himself to be 
a decided enemy of the monkish tyrants, Bedda sent Eras- 
mus word that the translation might injure his character. 
The timid scholar, however, replied that it was undertaken 
without his consent, and that he ought to be judged by his 
own v^orks, as he had published them, and not by the ver- 
sions of others. t He also sent a special messenger to Ber- 
quin with a letter, in which he told him that though he had 
pubhshed his books with a good intention, yet he had 
brought an odium upon him, and, with his usual timidity, 
recommended him to avoid all contests Avith the divines, 
because religious controversy was carried on with so much 
acrimony that it was not safe to meddle with it. J 

But the ardour of Berquin in the inquiry after truth was 
unquenched and unquenchable. He felt a desire to become 
acquainted with the Holy Scriptures loved by the very men 
whom Bedda and his satellites were labouring to exterminate. 

* Jortin, vol. i. p. 422. + Op, torn. iii. p. 866, edit. Lugd. 
t Ibid., p. 884. 



S28 HIS OPPOSITION TO THE DOGMAS OF EOME. 

Soon he came to know experimentally the life-giving power 
of those words of wisdom and truth which are able to make 
wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. 
Then he became anxious to pour a flood of light 
on his fellow-countrymen. Having gained additional 
courage by the prayerful study of the Sacred Scriptures, he 
boldly published some epigrams against the " Sorbonne 
hornets,'^ and openly charged them with impiety. Now 
also he circulated through France, not only the writings of 
Erasmus, but also those of Luther and Melancthon, and 
maintained, as we learn from the letter of the first 
describing his death, from which I shall presently give an 
extract, that the Sacred Scriptures should be translated into 
the vulgar tongue, and disseminated among the people. 
He also held, as we learn from the same letter, that it is im- 
proper "to call on the Virgin Mary instead of the Hoi}/ Ghost, 
and to describe her as the source of all grace." He finds 
fault also with the custom of "calling her oUIr hope and our 
life, when such titles belong only to the Son of God." A re- 
ference to the account of his visit to Walsingham, from whicli 
it appears very plainly that Erasmus is not to be considered 
as a devout worshipper of the Virgin,''^ as well as to that noble 
passage in which he expresses his wish that " the husband- 
man should sing some of the verses at his plough-tail, that 
the weaver should sing them while throwing his shuttle, and 
that the traveller should beguile a tedious journey with the 
stories contained in them,"t shows very plainly that Berquin 
was indebted to him for the ojjinions here ascribed to him. 
Bedda, who shrank from attacking Berquin while he 
assailed him with his wit, because he was one of the gentle- 
men of the Court, thought that he might safely do so when 
he obtained undoubted evidence that he was propagating 
through France those truths which were opposed to his own 

■^ See pp. 111—124. + See p. 177. 



BERQUIN COMMITTED TO AND RELEASED FROM PRISON. 329 

prejudices, and distasteful to his own inclinations. Accord- 
ingly one day, when he was seated in his study, Bedda 
entered with his emissaries, armed with a warrant of search 
issued by the Parliament^ and carried off the books, the un- 
questionable proofs of his heresy, which were scattered 
around him. These were submitted by order of the Parlia- 
ment to the Theological Faculty, and having been reported 
to be heretical, were consigned to the flames. 

Berquin himself was now summoned before that formid- 
able body, and was ordered to recant. But he was not 
faint-hearted nor irresolute. He displayed the same 
Christian heroism as those martyrs and confessors who, by 
tlieir constancy even unto deatli, have shed an undying 
glory on the annals of Christianity^ He showed the reality 
of his religion by answering each threat of condign punish- 
ment with the expression of a firuier determination to 
hold to the end his religious opinions. To use the words 
of Erasmus, "Berquin somewhat resembled the palm- 
tree ; he rose again, and displayed a proud and towering 
spirit against all who sought to frighten him."* But the 
Parliament was determined, if possible, to treat him with 
merciless rigour. He was first of all sent to their own 
prison, and afterwards, having been handed over to the 
Bishop of Paris, was transferred to the prison of the 
ecclesiastical court. But Bedda was not permitted at this 
time to work his will upon Berquin. The nobility exclaimed 
that he was, by this imprisonment, infringing the privileges 
of their order, and that in condemning the worship of the 
Virgin, Berquin was only following the example of Erasmus 
and many others. Francis I. was now induced to interpose 
on his behalf. A messenger from the king appeared before 
his prison, charged with an order for his release, which his 
persecutors were obliged to obey. The King gained a 

"" D'Aubigne's Hist. vol. ii. p. 567. 



830 BEEQUm's DISAPPOIISTTME^TT IIT EEASMUS. 

victory over tlie Churcli, beating down her sword as it was 
about to be sheathed in the body of this faithful servant of 
his Divine Master. 

Berquin now began to entertain the confident expectation 
that France might be induced to shake off the yoke of the 
Pope. He determined that no effort on his part should be 
wanting to effect her emancipation. We find him now 
■writing to Erasmus, to whom he was personally unknown, 
and expressing a hope that he would aid him in the 
accomplishment of his object. But he had not yet learnt 
that, on account of his timidity and indecision of character, 
he was the very worst person to whom he could have 
applied for aid in fighting his battles. The advice which 
the philosopher gave him, so far from encouraging him, was 
calculated to damp his ardour in the prosecution of his high . 
and holy enterprise. "■ Remember," he said, " not to pro- 
voke the wasps, and peaceably enjoy your own studies. 
Above all, do not mix me up with your affairs, for this 
would be of no service to you or to me."''' 

Berquin, however, was not easily daunted. Though a 
thousand hostile forms thronged the path which he was 
pursuing, he was still prepared to march forward. He 
acted in the spirit of that noble declaration of St. Paul, 
" What mean ye to weep and to break mine heart? for I 
am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jeru- 
salem for the name of the Lord Jesus ?"t If his religion 
had not been real, he would now have violated his oath of 
fealty to the King of Kings. But he was supported by 
that hidden strength which God always supplies to His 
servants in seasons of difficulty and danger. The disap- 
pointment wliicli he experienced in Erasmus, who, after 
having by his writings led him to engage in this struggle, 

^- Op. torn. iii. p. 1208, B. edit. Liigd. 
t Acts xxi. 13. 



HIS CONTINUED PKOPAGATION OF PEOTESTANT BOOKS. 331 

now showed, by the cowardly advice which he gave him, 
that he wished to recede from the opinions which he had 
formerly expressed, served to impress him with a deeper 
conviction that he ought to cease altogether from man, and 
that he ought to lean upon that Almighty arm which alone 
could uphold him. He now lost no opportunity of assailing 
the monks, and exposing their hypocrisy. This was the 
real cause of their enmity to him. He also, as we learn 
from a letter to John a Lasco, continued to translate and to 
propagate the writings of Erasmus, " with a free spirit and 
honest design.^' To these were added those of Luther, and 
the " Common Places " of Melancthon. This circulation of 
Protestant books was in fact his great offence in the 
opinion of Bedda and his associates ; but they did not dare 
in the first instance to bring it prominently forward, be- 
cause they knew that the King was a great patron of litera- 
ture. We find that Bedda had influence enough with the 
Parliament at the time of the captivity of Francis I., after 
the battle of Pavia, to induce the members of that body 
again to cast him into prison. In vain was he urged by 
many to recant ; he declared that he would not yield on a 
single point. It seemed then as if there were no alterna- 
tive but that he should expiate his offence at the stake. 

But now Margaret of Valois, the sister of Francis I., 
came to his aid. She had learnt the opinions of the Re- 
formers from their works, which were now being circulated 
through France. Her beautiful religious poetry shows 
that she was deeply grieved on account of the manner in 
which she had treated the scandals of the age in which she 
lived. The heavenly plant at this time flourished and 
expanded amid the sickly and tainted atmosphere of a 
Court. She was now full of alarm about Berquin. She 
therefore wrote to her brother to solicit his pardon. Eras- 
mus speaks of his danger, as well as of the result of her ap- 



S32 HIS DEATH. 

plication on his behalf in the letter to John a Lasco already 
referred to. " His translation of my writings has been 
profitable neither to him nor to me. Twice he was in 
danger of losing his life by it, and he would certainly have 
perished by the mercy of the monks, if the King had not 
rescued him." On his return to Paris, after his captivity, 
he issued an order for Berquin's release. 

i^fter this time he continued at Paris for three years, 
till 1529, disseminating the writings of Erasmus. Unfor- 
tunately the profane mutilation of a statue exasperated 
Francis. The sad tragedy which followed shall be de- 
scribed in the words of Erasmus.* " I have heard that the 
power of passing sentence on him was given to twelve 
chosen judges. It was that his books should be burnt ; 
that he should be called upon to abjure ; that his tongue 
should be pierced ; and that he should be imprisoned for 
life. On hearing this sentence, which was severe be.yond 
his expectation, he appealed to the King and the Pope. 
The judges, enraged at this announcement, told him that 
as he would not submit to their sentence, he should never 
again be able to appeal to any one. The next day they 
ordered him to be committed to the flames. It is said that 
the principal charge against him was that he had stated in 
his writings, contrary to the decree of Parliament, that it 
was desirable, with a view to the advancement of true re- 
ligion, that the Bible should be translated into the vulgar 
tongue, and should be read by the people. Six hundred 
soldiers were ordered out to prevent a tumult. Neither 
his look nor his manner indicated the least discompo- 
sure. He seemed like one in his library, absorbed in his 
studies, or in a church, meditating on heavenly things. 
Not even when the executioner with a harsh voice pro- 
claimed his crime and his punishment, did he seem to lose 

* Letter to a friend, translated from a note in Jortin, vol. i. p. 476. 



COLD LETTER OF ERASMUS ABOUT HIM. 33 S 

any of his firmness. When he was told to come down 
from the carriage, he obeyed without the least hesitation. 
He did not show any of that audacity or ferocity which 
wickedness sometimes engenders in malefactors. The 
calmness of his countenance indicated a self-approving 
conscience. Before his death he made an address to the 
people. No one, however, could hear a word of it on ac- 
count of the loud groans of the soldiers. While he was 
being suffocated by the smoke, no one in the crowd called 
out the name of Jesus, as is usually done in the case 
even of parricides and profane wretches. The reason was 
that those men who are everywhere, and have great in- 
fluence with simple and ignorant people, had turned the 
minds of all against him. A certain Franciscan asked him 
in his dying moments whether he recanted. This man de- 
clares that he did so^ and asserts that he has not 
the least doubt that his soul departed in peace. But 
1 do not believe him. You have now heard the account of 
the death of Berquin, for which he seems to have been 
born. I cannot give an opinion on the cause of his death, 
because it is altogether unknown to me. I grieve for him 
if he has not deserved punishment. If he has deserved it, 
I grieve the more. For it is better that an innocent man 
should die, than one who is guilty. I have not the least 
doubt that he had persuaded himself that he was in the right. 
This persuasion would account for his calm look." 

We cannot fail to observe the lamentable coldness of this 
letter. We should have thought that he would have been 
full of righteous indignation against his persecutors, espe- 
cially when we remember that he, by his writings, had been 
greatly instrumental in bringing him to the stake. We find 
him, however, not only concealing the share which he had 
in his death, but even expressing himself thus in a letter to 



384 COWARDICE OF ERASMUS. 

a friend, Agrippa :* "I often endeavoured to persuade him 
to be careful to disentangle himself from that matter ; but 
he deluded himself with the expectation of victory. If 
you cannot hope to avoid exposing yourself to the dangers 
of war, take care that you fight from a tower, and do not 
come to close quarters. Especially be careful not to mix 
me up with this business. I asked Berquin to give me the 
same promise ; but he was deceived, because he thought more 
of his own courage than of my advice. You see how the 
matter has ended. There would not have been the least 
danger if he had listened to me. I often told him that the 
divines and the monks could not be conquered, even if he had 
a better cause than St. Paul." Once, indeed, Erasmus had 
had the courage to condemn the sacrifice of two Augus- 
tinian monks whom Egmont and Hochstrat caused to be 
burnt at Brussels, and foretold that " the blood of the mar- 
tyrs would be the seed " of the Lutheran church.t But 
since that time he had been gradually receding farther and 
farther from the position which he occupied. Now the 
trumpet gives an uncertain sound. He speaks with a hesi- 
tating utterance. He fears that he shall involve himself in 
difficulty and danger by making common cause with one 
against whom the Church of Rome had fulminated her ana- 
themas ; thus presenting a remarkable contrast to one whom 
he has described in the preceding letter as exhibiting a holy 
tranquillity, even when death was approaching in his most 
forbidding form, heralded by the dark executioners of his 
mandates. 

I regret to say that soon after this time Erasmus pub- 
lished an '' Apology," the opinions expressed in which are 
not very creditable to him. It is called — *' A Letter against 
certain Professors of the Gospel, falsely so named. "| The 

* Jortin's " Life," vol. ii. p. 470. f Ibid. vol. i. p. 325. 

J Op. torn. X. p. 1573, edit. Lugd. 



HIS ATTACK ON THE REFOEMERS. 335 

person to whom it was addressed was Gerardus Noviomagus, 
or Geldenhaur, a zealous Lutheran, who was originally one 
of his intimate friends. Inflamed with anger against 
Erasmus because he had once been inclined to that party, 
and had not only abandoned it, but also contributed to 
exasperate the Roman Catholics against it, he exposed his 
inconsistency in several publications, and in particular 
charged hini with having maintained that it was unlawful 
to put heretics to death. Erasmus, afraid lest the persecut 
ing princes whom he numbered amongst his patrons should 
imagine that he was condemning the atrocities which they 
were now constantly perpetrating, made an absurd distinc- 
tion between different heretics, and said that he did not 
intend to restrain the civil magistrates from putting blas- 
phemers to death. It was a fault, he said, to drag men to 
the fire for every error ; but it was wrong to contend that 
no heretic whatever ought to be put to death by the civil 
magistrate. He now brings against the Reformers various 
charges. He says that "the primitive Christians recom- 
mended their doctrine by mildness, and simplicity of man- 
ners, and by patience in bearing Id juries, whereas the socie- 
ties of the Reformers abounded with adulterers, drunkards, 
gamesters, and spendthrifts." In a strain of banter he charges 
them with having made Romanists more formidable than ever. 
'* Formerly," he observes, " we might discuss various ques- 
tions, as the power of the Pope, purgatory, &c.; now we 
must not open our mouths even on those great truths, the 
discussion of which tends to edification. We are compelled, 
too, to believe that a man can perform by himself meritori- 
ous works ; that he deserves eternal life by his good deeds ; 
that the Blessed Virgin can order the Son who reigns with 
the Father to listen to our prayers, and many other things 
which men of a pious mind cannot endure to hear. For- 
merly no one attacked you if you ate flesh in private ; now 
if from a regard to your health you taste even an egg in. 



336 HIS ATTACK OF THE EEFOEMERS. 

Lent, you are dragged as a heretic to prison, and liave ta 
answer for your life. Formerly we might even spit at 
monks and divines ; but now you have given to these men 
so much power, that it is a capital offence to utter a word 
against them. Formerly the ordination of clerks protected 
them from the rigour of the civil tribunal ; now priests, as 
well as those who follow a mean trade for gain, are tortured, 
are beaten, are hanged, are beheaded, are burnt by the 
public executioner, without being degraded. Such are the 
auspicious circumstances in connection with the revival of 
your gospel. You yourselves can judge best what other 
evils are coming upon us." 

All right-minded persons will be grieved when they find 
Erasmus writing in this tone. They cannot fail to pro- 
nounce a distinct and emphatic condemnation on that 
fear of man which led him to stifle his conscientious convic- 
tions, and to abstain from discussing and opposing dogmas 
which are condemned alike by reason and revelation. It 
is hard to believe, that with his latitudinarian views, he 
really held the opinion that it is lawful to put heretics to 
death ; and it was probably only his determination to retain, 
at any cost^ the favour of his powerful patrons_, that in- 
duced him so far to yield to the spirit of the age as to 
profess the doctrine. He seems to have forgotten that 
if he had been seized by the monks, he might have been 
judged out of his own mouth ; and that, unless he had re- 
canted, he would have breathed out his soul in the burning 
fiery furnace amid the shouts and revilings of assembled 
multitudes. 

The Protestant clergy of Strasburg made a reply to the 
charges of Erasmus. Upon reading it, he became very 
much embittered against the Eeformers, and published an 
answer addressed to the brethren of Lower Germany, 
far more violent than the preceding " Apology."* " I 
* Op. torn. X. p. 1589, edit. Lugd. 



HIS EXTENUATION OF THE SINS OF THE CLERGY. 337 

knew a person," he writes, '^ whom for more than ten years 
I loved as if he had been my own son. He seemed to have 
a good disposition ; but as soon as he had a small portion of 
the evangelical spirit, he began, contrary to all expectation, 
to be a good player at dice, a sitter up all night at cards, 
and a man of an elegant taste for bad women." He men- 
tions another, " one of the heads of the gospel party, a man 
against whom I have never said a word, who, not content with 
wounding my character in conversation, has written a 
pamphlet against me, which he reads to his drinking com- 
panions !" " In matters of business," he adds, " I have 
found the gospellers more unfeeling, and less to be trusted 
than other people, and I am acquainted with some of the 
Eoman Catholic bishops whose sanctity I prefer to that of 
a thousand of the new sectaries." 

He concludes in the following manner : " Objections are 
made to the bad lives of the priests ; the tyranny of the 
Papal decrees is exaggerated; the evil practices of the 
monks are exposed, and promises of liberty are made. 
This is the bait, but take care lest there be found lurk- 
ing! under it a steel-hook, which may entangle you, and 
prove your destruction. What greater folly than to show 
your hatred to priests and wicked monks in such a man- 
ner as to render them no better, and to make yourselves 
worse than they are ! For there is no sin worse than 
heresy and schism. Be it granted that luxury, lewdness, 
ambition, avarice, and every other crime, may all be found in 
one single priest ; heresy is, however, worse than all this 

aggregate of vices In our anger against ecclesiastics 

let us never forget that they are such Let Christ 

make a reform through the medium of Charles V., an Em- 
.peror eminent for his^ power, eminent for his clemency, and 
equally eminent for his religion. The co-operation of the 
German princes may be depended on ; and there are many 

22 



338 THE SINS OP SOME EEFOEMERS CENSUEED. 

circumstances which, induce us to entertain a good hope 
that the thoughts of the Pope are turned the same way. . . . 
No reformation of the Church will be successful which 
does not begin with our rulers. The Pope alone, with 
the Emperor, can effect it ; and unless appearances 
deceive us, Christ has disposed their minds to this good 
work." 

This extenuation of the wickedness of the clergy, and the 
tone of delight, instead of pity, in which he speaks of the sins 
of the Reformers, deserve the strongest condemnation. It is 
manifest, when he brings railing accusations against the 
latter, that he could not help feeling that many of the 
Romanists were the slaves of every vice. He admits that 
this was the case in a letter to be given immediately. I 
regret to say that some of the Reformers answered to the 
description of them here given. But many, as Erasmus 
knew, were strict in their fulfilment of every social and 
relative obligation. The former inflicted a great injury on 
the cause of the Reformation. Erasmus, amongst others, 
was led to ask himself what . could be the value of their 
principles, when their practice was diametrically opposed to 
the plainest precepts of the Gospel. Thus the Saviour was 
wounded in the house of His friends. Thus some, like 
Erasmus, not only refused to become standard bearers, or 
to enlist in the army of the Reformers, but even were 
led to labour to raze to its foundation the fabric of Pro- 
testantism. 

We might suppose from the preceding letter that Eras- 
mus had a very high opinion of the Pope and the Emperor. 
But only six months afterwards he contradicts the opinions 
here expressed. He wrote to Matthias Kretzer to this effect.* 
" That the Emperor was very angry, and that there were 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 1018, edit. Bas. 



EBASMUS CONDEMNS THE POPE AXD CLEEaT. 339 

those who were throwing oil into the fire ;* that some who 
wore purple gowns did much mischief hy their conduct, for 
though they must be well aware that the luxury and pride 
of the clergy had been the chief cause of the present dis- 
sensions, yet they lived in incredible pomp, revelling and 
sometimes playing at dice all night, and not even taking 
care to keep their e\^l conduct from the knowledge of the 
world ; that the haughtiness, not to say the tyranny, of the 
ecclesiastics, was increasing ; their wealth and luxury were 
also increasing, and there was not the least diminution of 
their thirst after these things. It was not for him," 
Erasmus said, " to judge the Pope, but those who came 
from Italy told things which he was grieved to hear. 
How cruelly had he treated Florence ! As far as he could 
see, the Pope, by the help of the princes, and by augment- 
ing the number of his cardinals, was endeavouring to pre- 
vent every attempt at reformation. And what was aU this 
but to provoke God more and more V 

A symbolical representation, exhibited before Charles V. 
and his brother Ferdinand, at Augsburg, in 1530, at the 
time when the Lutherans presented their celebrated confes- 
sion of faith to the Diet assembled in that city, gives so 
just a view of the character and motives of Erasmus, as 
weU as of the other actors in the drama, that I shall not 
scruple to bring it before the notice of my readers. Eras- 
mus had been summoned to the Diet, but he could not 
attend it on account of his health. He was glad of the 
excuse, for he says that he could not have come there but 
at the risk of his life.t He wrote an answer to Cardinal 
Campeggio to protest against settling questions of doctrine 
by the sword, j: The following is the account of the repre- 

* He here refers to the Pope, who, with the aid of the Emperor, 
was endeavouring to crush the Eeformers, Jortin, vol. i. p. 506. 
t Op. torn. iii. p. 1152, edit. Lugd. % Ibid. p. 1117. 

22—2 



340 COMEDY ACTED BEFORE CHARLES V. 

sentation.* "As the princes were at table, some persons 
ojQTered to act a small comedy for the entertainment of the 
company. They were ordered to begin ; when first entered 
a man in the dress of a doctor, who brought a large quan- 
tity of small wood, of straight and crooked billets, and laid 
it on the middle of the hearth, and retired. On his back 
was written the name of Eeuchlin. When this actor went 
off another entered, apparelled also like a doctor, who 
attempted to make faggots of the wood, and to fit the 
crooked to the straight; but having laboured long to no 
purpose, he went away out of humour, and shaking his 
head. On his back appeared the name of Erasmus. A 
third, dressed like an Augustinian monk, came in, with a 
chafing dish full of fire, gathered up the crooked wood, put 
it on the fire, and blew till he made it burn, having on his 
frock. the name of Luther. A fourth entered, dressed like 
the Emperor, who, seeing the crooked wood all on fire, 
seemed much concerned, and in order to put it out, drew 
his sword and poked the fire with it, which only made it 
burn brisker. On his back was written the name of 
Charles V. Lastly, a fifth entered in his pontifical habit 
and triple crown, who seemed extremely surprised to see 
the crooked billets all on fire, and by his countenance and 
attitude betrayed excessive grief. Then, looking out on 
every side to see if he could find any water to extinguish 
the flames, he cast his eyes on two bottles in a corner of 
the room, one of which was full of oil, and the other of 
water, and in his hurry he unfortunately seized on the oil 
and poured it on the fire, which made it blaze so violently, 
that he was forced to walk ofi*. On his back was written 
Leo X." 

" This little farce," as Jortin observes, " wanted no com- 

* Jortin's "Life," vol. i. p. 585. 



joetin's obseevations upon it. 341 

mentary ; but if the actors had taken it into their heads to 
represent the whole conduct of Erasmus, they should have 
introduced him a second time, and have represented him as 
constrained by the menaces of Leo X,, to take up the 
straight wood and burn it along with the crooked." 



342 EEASMUS KEVILED BY THE EOMANISTS. 



CHAPTER XII. 

LOSS OF FRIENDS BY DEATH.— LAST YEARS.— CHARACTER. 
(A.D. 1530-1536.) 

The latter part of the life of Erasmus which I have now 
described, was embittered by the reflection that he had lost 
the esteem and confidence of both the contending parties. 
On the one hand, he could not, by his recantation, satisfy 
the Roman Catholics, who declared that he had, by his pub- 
lications, inflicted great injury on the Church. A doctor 
at Constance kept his picture for no other purpose than 
that when he passed it he might spit upon it, and on being 
asked why he treated him with this contempt, answered 
that Erasmus was the cause of all the mischief in the world. 
His enemies did not hesitate to propagate lies respecting 
him. One said that he had died of a terrible distemper, 
another, that he had been at his funeral, another, that his 
books and pictures had been burnt publicly at Rome. They 
called him also Errasmus, as made up of errors ; Erasinus, ab 
asino ; a monster, and therefore Behemoth.* It appears 
from a letter of Henry Vlll. to him, in 1528, already 
referred to, in which he invited him to return to his king- 
dom, *' that he was in danger of his life from them, and 
that he was nowhere safe from their malice." Convinced 

* Kuight'a " Life," p. 328. 



HIS DEEP MELANCHOLT. 343 

that learning was fatal to their power over the people, they 
represented Erasmus, the great promoter of its revival, 
and Luther, as equally enemies to the Church, hoping that 
they would be involved in the same ruin. We often find 
him in his letters declaring, in answer to them, that the 
cause of literature had no connection with Lutheranism. 
On the other hand, the Protestants bitterly accused him, 
and asserted, not without some appearance of reason, that 
if he had been true to his convictions, and had been less 
timid, his wonderful reputation would have given to the 
Reformers the same influence with the learned and refined, 
which they had secured for themselves with the multitude, 
so that every one on this side of the Alps would have cast 
off the usurped dominion of the Roman Pontiff. 

We can easily imagine that Erasmus suffered severely 
from this opposition. He loved popularity, and yet he was 
more abused than any one in Europe. He loved peace ; and 
yet he had the din of angry controversy constantly sounding 
in his ears. He now went heavily all the day in the bitter- 
ness of his soul. A dense and dismal darkness brooded over 
his spirit. "In the morning he said. Would God it were 
even ! and at even he said, Would God it were morning !" 
He no longer found any pleasure in that converse with the 
Muses which originally constituted one of the principal 
sources of his happiness. His wan and wasted countenance, 
his dejected air, his sleepless nights, his neglect of his daily 
food, his downcast look, the longing for death which he 
often expressed to his friends, afforded sad evidence that an 
anguish had taken possession of his soul, which surpasses 
all description. How different would have been the case if 
he had sought God's grace to enable him to conquer that 
*' fear of man which bringeth a snare," and to act up to his 
conscientious convictions ! He would then have possessed a 
holy serenity of soul which would have formed a strange 



844 DEATH OF ARCHBISHOP WAEHAM AND PIRCKHEIMEE* 

contrast to the storm which was raging furiously around 
him. The ties by which he was bound to the high and 
mighty ones of the earth, to the friends of his youth, and 
to the companions of his riper years, might have been 
severed , but not so those ties by w^hich he was united to 
"God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made 
perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant." 
He would not have been left desolate ; Christ Himself would 
have been an " exceeding joy " to him in the midst of his 
tribulation. When abandoned by all whose friendship and 
patronage he had hitherto prized so highly, he would have 
been sustained by the sympathy of his Almighty Saviour ; 
he would have been cheered by the assurance that He 
would support him by His presence in his passage through 
this world of trial and temptation, and that He would at 
length vindicate his cause before an assembled uni- 
verse. 

Erasmus was now often painfully reminded of that solemn 
hour when the " dust shall return to the earth as it was, 
and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." He now 
saw his friends and patrons, the objects of his heart's best 
affections, fleeting like leaves before the autumnal blast. In 
the first month of 1532, he lost his valued friend Pirckheimer. 
Then he was called upon to pay the tribute of a tear to the 
memory of his friend "Warham. In 1532 "he came to his 
grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in 
in his season." We have already seen how much Erasmus 
was indebted to him for his patronage. On one occasion 
he says that he had received so much from Warham, that 
it would be scandalous to take more of him even if he 
should offer it. He had, as we have seen, saddled the living 
of Aldington with a payment of twenty pounds a year to 
him, to which he had added twenty pounds from his own 
private purse. Thus endowed, Erasmus had an income from 



LETTERS TO AND FEGM TVAEHAJI. 345 

England alone equivalent to four hundred pounds 
a year in the present day.* 

The following extracts from a letter addressed from 
Cambridge to Warham, and from another sent by the 
Archbishop in reply, will serve to show the footing of easy, 
yet respectful familiarity on which he stood with him. He 
has kiformed us elsewhere that AVarham was w^ont to 
place himself on an equality with his guests, while by his 
manner he shov/ed that no one was to take a liberty with 
him, or with any of his companions. The letters con- 
tain much wit and humour, though they are coarse, 
after the manner of the age. 

" Your Erasmus has a dangerous and terrible fit of the 
stone, w^hich has cast him into the hands of doctors and 
apothecaries, that is, of butchers and harpies. I am still in 
labour : I feel the pangs wdthin me. . . . I think that this 
pain is owing to the drinking of beer, which for seyeral 
days I have been forced to use instead of ^rme. These are 
the unhappy fruits of a war with rrance."t 

The Archbishop sent the following facetious reply : " I 
hope that you are purged of your gravel and stones, the 
rather because the Feast of the Purgation of the Virgin 
Mary is lately over. What mean these stones in your body ? 
What is it you would build upon this rock 1 I cannot think 
that you design a noble house or any edifice of this kind. 
And therefore, since you have no occasion for your 
stones, pray part with them as soon as you can ; and give 
any money to carry them off. I will gladly give money to 
bring them to my buildings. That you may do so the* 
more easily, and not be wanting to yourself, I have sent 
you by a London goldsmith's son thirty nobles, which I 
would have you change into ten legions, to help to drive 

* Hook's "Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury," vol. i.p. 325^ 
tOp. torn. iii. p. 429, edit. Bas. 



346 WARHAM's DlSmTERESTEDNESS. 

away the distemper. Gold is a good medicine, and has a 
great deal of virtue in it. Apply it to the recovery of your 
health, which I would be glad to purchase for you at a 
higher price. For I know that you have a great many 
excellent works to publish, which cannot be finished 
without health and strength."* 

The Archbishop had a very high opinion of Erasmus. 
He says in a letter to him, that he was very grateful to him 
for the immortality which he had conferred upon him ; for 
the mention of him in his works would secure for him " an 
honour denied to the mightiest kings, and would perpetuate 
his name to the remotest generations. "t 

Erasmus states in a letter to More, that though Warham had 
held the highest offices in Church and State, he had so little 
attended to his own advantage, that at the time of his 
death he had only left enough to pay his debts and funeral 
expenses. It is said that shortly before his death he asked 
his steward what money he had in his hands. On hearing 
that he had only thirty pounds, he cheerfully answered, 
"Satis viatici ad coelum — " " It is enough to last me to hea- 
ven." Erasmus, in the same letter, states that his straitened 
circumstances were the reason, that he had not received so 
much from him towards the close of his life, as he had in 
the earlier part of it ; and mentions also that Archbishop 
Cranmer had told him that he should never miss his former 
great patron. J 

The following extracts from his works show that Eras- 
mus thought very highly of the Archbishop. Writing to 
the Abbot of St. Bertin, he says : " Of those who are kind 
to me, I give the first place to Warham, Archbishop of 
Canterbury. What genius, what copiousness, what viva- 
city ! What facility in the most complicated discussions ! 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 275, edit. Bas. f Ibid. p. 76. 

J Knight's "Life," p. 234. 



Erasmus's eulogium on warham. 347 

What erudition, what politeness ! From ^Yarham none 
€ver parted in sorrow. His behaviour would do honour to 
a monarch. With all these qualities, how great is his hu- 
mility ! how edifying his modesty ! He alone is ignorant 
of his eminence. No one is more faithful or consistent in 
friendship. In fine he is a true Primate, not only in rank, 
but in every kind of merit."* 

He thus speaks of him in his '' Ecclesiastes," which, as we 
shall see presently, was published after the Archbishop's 
death, so that the eulogium which he here pronounces upon 
him, could not have been prompted by the hope of reward.t 

" He was raised to be the head of the Church of Canter- 
bury, which ranks foremost in dignity in that island. To this 
charge, exceedingly burdensome in itself, was added another 
still more so. He was obliged to undertake the office of 
Chancellor, which indeed, with the English, is truly royal. 
That office he filled with so much skill for many years, that you 
would have supposed that he was born for that very business, 
and held no other charge. But at the same time he was so vig- 
ilant and attentive in matters relating to religion and his ec- 
clesiastical functions, that you would have imagined that he 
was engaged in no external concerns. He found sufficient time 
to discharge religiously the solemn duties of prayer, to per- 
form mass almost daily, to be present besides at two or three 
services, to hear causes, to receive embassies, to advise the 
king if anything of importance had arisen in Court, to visit 
his churches wherever his presence was required, to receive 
his guests, often amounting to 200 ; and lastly his leisure was 
given to reading. For occupations so various he found one life 
sufficient, no part of which he bestowed on hunting, none on 
dice, none on empty talk, none on luxury or pleasure. Though 
he had sometiuies bishops, dukes, earls, as his guests, yet 

* Op. torn, iii, p. 118, edit. Lugd. 
+ Op. torn. V. p. 641, edit. Bas. 



348 Erasmus's eulogium oit wahham. 

dinner was always finished in the space of an hour. He 
took the smallest quantity of food ; and, with the kind- 
ness of his looks, and the cheerfulness of his discourse, 
enlivened the whole table. If he had no company for 
supper, he spent the time of supper either in prayer or 
reading. He was pleased with the free jests of his friends, 
but shrank from detraction as any one would do from a 
serpent. Thus this excellent man made those days always 
long, of the shortness of which so many complain." 

This picture of Warham is too highly coloured. Grati- 
tude for benefits conferred, no doubt led Erasmus to exag- 
gerate his merits. He was an easy man, anxious during 
the latter part of his life to live quietly, and to enjoy the 
otium cum dignitate of the Archbishopric. His abilities 
were certainly remarkable ; but he wanted that genius 
which enables a man by intuition to see which is the right 
course to pursue in circumstances of peculiar difficulty and 
perplexity. In all probability he would have occupied a 
higher place in the estimation of posterity, if the transcen- 
dent abilities of Wolsey had not cast him into the shade. 
He was a great friend to the new learning, and extended 
his patronage to all who, like Erasmus, endeavoured to ad- 
vance it. The learned men who were his guests in his 
manor houses, always found him ready to give and to 
receive information. He was certainly more super- 
stitious than Erasmus. He was more inclined also to 
mysticism than scholasticism. To a certain extent he was 
a reformer ; but he aimed at the reformation of the clergy, 
instead of beginning as he ought to have begun, with the 
reformation of the Church. Dean Colet was appointed by 
him as the preacher before convocation in 1512, in order 
that he might, as the first step to a reformation, expose ta 
the public view their avarice, their worldly mindedness, 
their carnal ease, and their self-indulgence. Both he and 



OBSEEVATIONS ON THE CHARACTER GIVEN TO HIM. 349 

Erasmus thought that a reformation could be effected only 
by unfolding the meaning of the Bible in a new and im- 
proved translation to the leadiug men of the day, in order 
that they might by degrees discover and correct the errors 
in doctrine and practice which he firmly believed to exist. 
But Warham differed from him in thinking that a know- 
ledge of the Scriptures should not, for the present at least, be 
■universally diffused, for he imagined that the consequence 
of constituting the people judges of the reformation required, 
would be that they would be carried away by revolutionary 
fanaticism, and would be guilty of the wildest excesses, 
which would be prejudicial to the best interests of human 
society. Hence, while he strongly approved of Erasmus's 
translation into Latin, which was intended only for the 
learned, he disapproved of, and sought to suppress Tyndal's 
translation designed to enable his fellow-countrymen to 
read in their own tongue the wonderful works of God. He 
thought that the reformation should be carried on gradually 
by persons in authority ; and wished the reading of the 
Word of God to be confined to a few who would use it for 
devotional purposes, not as a means of enabling them to sit 
in judgment on the teaching of the " infallible " doctors of 
the Church. 

I admit the general accuracy of the character given 
by Erasmus, and I may add that he was generous in 
his donations to needy friends ; and that he often rewarded 
those who flattered him, or rendered to him personal ser- 
vices. I must : state also 'that he was economical; and 
that he required a strict account from his retinue] of 
the most trifling expenditure. With all his desire for 
reform, he was still a Eomanist. He denied, as I 
have said, the right of all the people to read, and to 
exercise their private judgment in the interpretation of 
Holy Scripture, the fundamental doctrine of Protestantism ; 



350 WARHAM STILL A EOMANIST. 

lie accepted tlie opus operatum to its fullest extent, 
and he believed in the doctrine of purgatory, for he 
became the Papal collector of tolls in this country 
in the matter of indulgences. Fuller, no doubt, speaks 
the truth when he calls him " a still and silent persecutor 
of poor Christians," for, as Fox informs us, in the year 1511 
he caused one John Brown of Ashford in Kent to be cruelly 
tortured by having his bare feet placed on burning coals 
till they were burnt to the bones, and then to be committed 
to the flames because he refused to recant ;* and afterwards 
he compelled six men at Knowle to do penance, and to go 
in procession carrying a faggot to show that they had in- 
curred the highest penalty of the law, for asserting what 
all Protestants ought to maintain, that confession to a 
priest is unnecessary, and that the consecrated elements are 
not the body and blood of Christ, but material bread and 
wine.t We know also that he was an enemy to the Ee- 
formers, for he drew up, and persuaded the King to issue a 
proclamation, enjoining his lords spiritual and temporal 
and all who held high office to assist in suppressing publica- 
tions and in silencing preachers " who inculcate anything 
contrary to the determination of the Cathohc faith, and the 
definitions of Holy Church. "| 

We doubt not that Warham's death was the means of 
directing the thoughts of Erasmus to the hour which, he 
felt, could not be far distant, when his own dilapidated 
tabernacle should fall into ruins. We learn that he was 
engaged in meditation on the subject of preparation for 
death, from a letter written in 1533, from Friburg to 

* Fox's ** History of Christian Martyrdom," with Notes by Rev. 
J. Mihier. New edition, London, 1838, vol. i. p. 479. 

+ Hook's *' Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury," vol. i^ new 
series, p. 281. 

t Ibid, p. 340. 



THE EAEL OF WILTSHIRE AND OEMOND. 351 

Thomas, Lord Viscount Eochford, formerly Sir Thomas 
Boleyn, and afterwards, when his unfortunate daughter 
became the King's consort, Earl of Wiltshire and Ormond. 
Erasmus had previously, in compliance with his re- 
quest, written an exposition of the twenty-second Psalm, 
which he dedicated to him.''" He mentions him as a re- 
markable instance of a man who, though rich, nobly de- 
scended, connected with royalty, surrounded with glittering 
vanities, and breathing the tainted atmosphere of a court, 
could yet rise to his high destinies, seek the imperishable 
riches, and become a candidate for the unfading crown. 

Erasmus told him that he had himself derived much 
benefit from the preparation of this little work. He had 
further, in compliance with his request, drawn up an expo- 
sition of the Apostles' creed, for the use of those who were 
not sufficiently acquainted with the first principles of Chris- 
tianity. And now he asked Erasmus to engage on a third 
work on " Preparation for Death."t The latter addresses 
him in a dedicatory epistle, as a man more illustrious for 
his piety than for the ornamental appendages which fortune 
had conferred upon him. He then refers to the subject just 
mentioned ; " This," he says, " is the last act of human life, 
as of a play ; upon it depends our eternal happiness or 
misery. This is the last conflict with the enemy, from 
which the soldier of Christ may expect an everlasting tri- 
umph, if he should prove a conqueror ; everlasting shame 
if he should be cast down in the warfare. I was fully occu- 
pied with this subject, when your urgent request came to 
me, as a sort of spur to a running man. I was then medi- 
tating on it for my own benefit. Your pious zeal, however, 
will be the means of making the fruit of my meditation 
profitable to many. ... I pray that the God of grace may 

* Op. torn. V. p. 263, edit. Bas. t Ibid. p. 1081. 



S52 THE LOSS OP OTHER FEIENDS BY DEATH. 

give a blessing to your prayers, and to my labours." We 

trust that this last prayer was answered. Erasmus and his 

noble friend would need heavenly consolations to support 

them, not only afterwards, in the hour of their departure, but 

also previously when they heard, the one, that the heads of 

his daughter, Anne Boleyn, and of his son G-eorge, Lord 

Eochford, — the other, that the heads of his friends More and 

Fisher, in obedience to the mandate of Henry, had rolled 

on the scaffold. 

These two eminent men perished by the stroke of the 
executioner, within a few days of each other, in 1535. 
Their offence was the .same. They were quite willing to 
swear to the Act which secured the succession to the chil- 
dren of Anne Boleyn, but not to its preamble, which main- 
tained the lawfulness of the divorce. Lord Mountjoy had 
died the year before. Thus the ruthless hand of death sepa- 
rated Erasmus nearly at the same time from four men with 
whom his heart's best affections were entwined. He makes 
a touching allusion to their death, in the treatise called 
" Ecclesiastes."* — " We lament the loss of our merchandise 
in a shipwreck. What merchandise, however, is so precious 
as to admit of comparison with a real friend 1 Surely then 
the present time has been very cruel to me, inasmuch as it 
has deprived me of greatly valued friends ; first of all of 
William Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, and lately of 
William Mountjoy, the Bishop of Eochester, and Thomas 
More, whose breast was whiter than snow, to whom in 
point of genius, England, though the parent of men of dis- 
tinguished ability, never has produced and never will pro- 
duce any one who bears the least resemblance." 

More was indeed the light of his life, the very joy of his 
existence. We have seen the high eulogium which he pro- 
nounces upon him in his letter to Hutten. They had only 
. * Op. torn. 'v. p. 642, edit. Bas. 



moke's resig^tatioit op the chancellorship. 353 

met occasionally, as I have said, in the course of the last 
eighteen years, when More paid a hurried visit to the Con 
tinent, but their correspondence had never ceased. The 
affection which he felt for him could not be lessened by 
time nor separation. Erasmus was not without his fears 
that the elevation of More to the high dignity of Lord 
Chancellor, after Wolsej^, would prove fatal to him, because 
he knew that he was strongly opposed to the divorce of 
Queen Catherine. More, finding that his office involved 
him in many difficulties, had often urged the King to accept 
his resignation of the seals. At length he reluctantly con- 
sented to do so. More resigned in 1532, having held office 
for three years and a half. He was so delighted with 
having carried his point that he wrote to Erasmus to give 
him the welcome intelligence, and to inform him that he 
had returned to his beloved studies.* He added that he 
should consider his happiness complete if he could hope to 
have constant intercourse with a friend like himself before 
his departure. He also states that he had been obliged to 
resign his office and to live at ease, as his health had given 
way in consequence of intense application to public busi- 
ness j and adds that he could not undergo the same hercu- 
lean labours as Erasmus himself, t at which he expresses his 
surprise, on account of the state of his health, and the 
troubles of various kinds to which he was exposed. Eras- 
mus in reply said^Jthat he was rejoiced to hear that his 
friend had gone into retirement ; but could not refrain from 
expressing his fear that the King was quite aware of the 
real reason for his resign?otion, and from adding that, to 
use the words of Homer, monarchs dissemble their indig- 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 1073, edit. Bas. 

t In Holbein's picture of him, to which reference will presently 
be made, there is written under his hand this inscrij^tion " ILovoi 
'HpdKXetot." 

23 



354? MOEE m THE BOSOM OF HIS FAMILY. 

nation till the opportunity of revenging themselves shall 
be afforded to them.* 

Before the curtain falls after the last act of the tragedy, 
I must bring on the stage More in the bosom of his happy 
family. , Erasmus had thus described them some years pre- 
viously in a letter to Budseus.t " He has taken care that all 
of them should be trained from their tender years, first reli- 
giously, next in polite literature. More and I determined 
that they should show us what progress they had made in 
the latter. He told them all to write to me, and that they 
were to have no assistance in doing so. They were not to 
be supplied with the subject-matter, and no verbal correc- 
tions were to be made You will believe me when I 

say that I was never so much pleased in my life. There 
was nothing in the sense at all trifling or puerile. In 
their language you might at once see that they were im- 
proving daily. ; . . . You will see in this house no one 
idle, no one occupied about the trifles to which some 
females are devoted. They are reading the works of 
Livy, and have made so much progress that they can read 
authors of this description without explanation, unless they 
should happen to meet with a word which would give me, 
or those like me, some difficulty. His wife, who has more 
natural ability and experience than learning, -with wonder- 
ful tact manages the whole party, prescribing to each of 
them her task, and requiring her to show how she has per- 
formed it, not suflPering any one to be idle, or to be occu- 
pied about trifles." 

A few years afterwards he gave another descrij^tion of 
them. He informed a friend, John Faber, Bishop of Vienna, 
that More had retired to Chelsea some time before his 
troubles, and that he had " built on the banks of the 
Thames, not far from London, a comfortable manor house, 

* Knight's " Life," p. 23G. f Jortiu's " Life," vol. ii. p. 366. 



HANS Holbein's picture of more and his family. 355 

neither mean nor magnificent," where he lived in close and 
endearing intercourse with the members of his family. 
*' You might say," he continues, "that he had in his house 
another academy of Plato if I did not insult him by the 
comparison ; for in that academy they used to dispute con- 
cerning numbers and figures, sometimes concerning virtue 
and morality. You might more properly call this house 
the school and gymnasium of the Christian religion. 
Though all the members of the family make piety the prin- 
cipal object of their concern, yet they find time for liberal 
studies and for profitable reading. In that house the voice 
of contention is never heard, no one is ever seen idle. 
Every one does his duty with alacrity, and not without a 
temperate cheerfulness. That distinguished man secures 
the good order of his household not by overbearing and 
harsh treatment, but by gentleness and kindness. All are 
diligent in the discharge of their duties, and exhibit, while 
engaged in them, a spirit of sobriety and cheerfulness.""^ 

A picture of this family was painted in 1528 by the cele- 
brated Hans Holbein, who had been sent to More by 
Erasmus, with a portrait of him which he had painted, and 
whom More, after having kept him for two years in his 
house, introduced to Henry YHI.t The latter was so 
pleased with his exquisite paintings that he sat to him 
several times. He also painted more than one of his Queens. 
More sent Holbein's sketch of the family picture to Eras- 
mus in return for his own. It is preserved in the Basle 
Museum.J 

* Op. torn. iii. p. 1811, edit. Lugd. 

+ He was painted in 1517 by Q. Matsys, afterwards by A. Durer,. 
and frequently during his stay at Basle by Holbein, previously to 
1526. 

X The picture itself is lost. The picture exhibited at Kensington 
in 1866, belonging to Mr. Winn, a descendant of the Ropers, is only 
a good copy, though it then passed for the original. 

23 2 



356 MAEGAEET KOPEE. 

But there is one member of this family, Margaret Roper, 
who ought to be mentioned particularly, because Erasmus 
had so exalted an opinion of her virtues and abilities that 
he styled her, in a letter which he sent to her in acknow- 
ledgment of the above picture, "Britanniae suse decus." 
He told her that nothing could have given him greater plea- 
sure than to receive a picture in which a family so much 
respected by him was so exactly delineated, especially since 
the painter was one whom he had recommended to her 
father. He added that though he knew every one in the 
picture at first sight, yet he was more than ordinarily pleased 
with her own likeness, which brought to his mind all her 
excellent qualities.* She returned his compliment in au 
elegant epistle, in which she tells him that she is pleased to 
find that the piece is acceptable to him, and acknowledges 
him as her preceptor, to whom she is for ever grateful. 

Erasmus, while he wrote to all her brothers and sisters, 
showed very plainly that she was his favourite ; for in one 
of his letters he tells her that he was unable on account of 
business and the state of his health to write to all her sis- 
ters, and that they must consider what he said to her as 
addressed also to themselves. He also mentions her hus- 
band, mother, and brother as particularly deserving of his 
friendship.t He dedicated, also, to her some hymns of 
Prudentius. We are informed that she was a perfect 
prodigy of learning. She and her father once turned two 
declamations into Latin with so much elegance that no one 
could say which was the best. This is the same Margaret 
who, when her beloved father was being conducted back to 
the Tower after his sentence, burst through the crowd of 
spectators and soldiers who surrounded him, and clung to 
him in speechless agony. Sir Thomas gave her a parting 
kiss and said to her, "My dear Margaret, bear this calamity 

* Op. torn. iii. p, 1232, edit. Lugd. t Ibid., p. 1048, edit. Bas. 



THE TOMB PEEPARED BY MOKE AT CHELSEA. 357 

with patience, and do not any longer grieve for me. It is 
the will of heaven, and therefore must be endured." After 
having withdrawn from him for a short distance she again 
rushed into his arms, when, while the tears ran down his 
cheeks, he gave her his blessing, begged her prayers for 
him, and took his farewell of her. History informs us that 
even the soldiers were moved to tears as they witnessed 
the separation of two beings bound together by an affection 
such as is not often witnessed here below. 

Thus we see that death broke up that happy family. Sir 
Thomas indulged the confident expectation that, as he had 
been united to his two wives by the closest ties during his 
life, so after death they would not be separated, and that 
their bodies would moulder into dust together in the same 
narrow^ resting-place. Erasmus informs his friend, John 
Faber, in the letter just referred to, that More had prepared 
a tomb for himself in the parish church of Chelsea, to 
which he had removed the body of his former wife. He 
adds, " On the wall may be seen a tablet containing an ac- 
count of the events of his life, and recording his intention, 
which my friend has exactly described to me." More sent 
to him a copy of the epitaph in the letter announcing his 
intended resignation, an extract from which has just been 
given. He states at the close of it in Latin elegiac verses, 
that in it rests the body of his beloved wife, Joanna ; that 
he intended it as the resting-place of himself and his pres- 
ent wife, Alice ; that the latter had the same affection for 
her step- children which the former had for her own chil- 
dren j and that the one was as much beloved by him as the 
other. A prayer is added that the tomb and heaven may 
imite them. " Thus," he says, "death will give us a bless- 
ing which we could not enjoy during life." But though 
that epitaph, or rather a copy of it, may still be seen on the 
wall of that red brick church on the bank of the Thames, 



858 THE ALTERED VIEWS OF MOEE AS TO EOMANISM. 

at Chelsea, where More worshipped with his family, it does 
not mark the spot where his ashes are enshrined. His wish 
was not realized. The husband and the two wives, so 
closely united during life, are not together awaiting the 
summons to arise from their resting-place. His head was 
procured from London Bridge by his daughter Margaret 
after it had remained there fourteen days ; and having been, 
in compliance with her request, placed in her arms after her 
death, was buried with her in St. Dunstan's Church, Canter- 
bury. The body has been dissolved into its kindred dust 
in some unknown spot. 

Erasmus wept and watched in imagination around the 
grave of his illustrious friend. They were united, as we 
have seen, by ties of no common affection. The character 
of the one bore a very close resemblance to that of the 
other. More liked as much the wit of Erasmus, as the 
spirit which pervaded his serious works. The eyes of both 
of them had been opened to many of the abuses and cor- 
ruptions of Eomanism. Both were friendly to religious 
toleration. To the truth of these assertions, in the case of 
More, many passages in the "Utopia" bear ample and unequi- 
vocal testimony. Probably if More, like Erasmus, had died 
earlier, he would have been reckoned among those, who, 
though they never separated from the Church of Eome, had 
endeavoured to heal that spiritual lepros}^ which she had 
spread through all orders of human society. Afterwards 
he exerted every effort to stay the progress of the Eeforma- 
tion. In his '' Supplication of the Souls in Purgatory," in 
reply to a work called *' The Supplication of the Beggars," 
which was very popular at the time, he became the decided 
apologist of pilgrim.ages, image-worship, purgatory, and 
other errors and abuses which he had ridiculed with Eras- 
mus in the early part of his career. He also took an active 
part in forwarding the work of persecution. He even 



MORE, A PEESECUTOE. 359 

openly violated the act of Henry V., and inflicted a length- 
ened imprisonment on heretics who had been brought be- 
fore him. Many were by his orders whipped, cruelly racked, 
and afterwards committed to the flames. Sometimes they 
were accused of denying the corporal presence ; sometimes 
of condemning strongly the character and habits of the 
clergy — an accusation which might with justice have been 
brought against More himself in former years. Thus, as 
Mr. Froude observes, '' the philosopher of the ' Utopia,' 
the friend of Erasmus, whose life was of blameless beauty, 
whose genius was cultivated to the highest attainable per- 
fection, was to prove to the world that the spirit of perse- 
cution is no peculiar attribute of the pedant, the bigot, or 
the fanatic, but may co-exist v/ith the fairest graces of the 
human character."* I may add that he had hitherto 
been more willing to endure than to inflict evil. Because 
this was his temper, and this the principle on which he had 
uniformly acted, because he was also in many points so far 
beyond the age in which he lived, he has been more strongly 
condemned for his intolerance than any of his contemporaries. 

This great change in his views and feelings may be attrib- 
uted to the delusion under which he laboured, when he 
witnessed the excesses of some amongst the Eeformers, es- 
pecially the frenzy of the Anabaptists in Germany, in 
imagining that the principles of the whole body tended to 
the subversion, not only of existing institutions, but even to 
the dissolution of society into its original elements. Eras- 
mus, as we have seen, expressed similar apprehensions. 
But in consequence of his higher position, and his more res- 
olute character. More had receded farther than his friend 
from the opinions w^hich he had previously expressed. 

No doubt the motive which chiefly led him to burn here- 
>tics alive was his assent to the dogma that belief in the 
* Froude's ''History of EngLand," vol. ii. p. 73. 



260 EETURIiT OF ERASMUS TO BASLE. 

doctrines of the Eoman Catholic Church is indispensable 
to salvation. He had been led to abandon the milder 
principles of his youth, and looked upon heresy as the 
worst offence of which a man could be guilty, worse even 
than murder and parricide. Thus he came to the conclusion 
that it was right to employ the most violent means for th© 
suppression of the opinions of the Reformers. That this^ 
dogma is utterly wrong is proved by its intolerable conse- 
quences ; and that it has the worst possible effect upon the- 
human heart is shown by the fact that it destroyed the 
natural gentleness of his character, which showed itself in 
all his domestic relations, and led him to think that he was 
doing God service by writing his arguments on behalf of 
Romanism in the blood of those who, if Christianity be not 
a fable, were his very brothers. 

Erasmus came to Basle in 1535 to superintend the publi- 
cation of his '' Ecclesiastes," the book already referred to, 
and to see if he could recover his health, and he returned 
no more to Friburg. He intended to leave it altogether, 
and to proceed to Brabant, to which he had been invited by 
Mary, Queen Dowager of Hungary. This book, though it 
will not form such a preacher as we require in modern days, 
and though it is rather tedious, yet contains much which is 
suited to all times and places. The following tale in the 
first book, in which he condemns the theological pulpit 
actors of the days in which he lived, will be found both 
amusing and instructive.* It will serve to show that he 
had no control over his sportive wit, even when writ- 
ing on serious subjects: ''There was in Italy a preacher 
called Robert Liciensis, of whose life I choose to say no- 
thing. I shall only say that, if common report speaks true, 
he had excellent talents for the pulpit. At first he had 

* "Ecclesiastes," torn. t. p. 641, edit. Bas. Jortiii's translation,, 
vol. ii, p. 86. 



TALE ABOUT A PULPIT ACTOE. 06 i 

"been one of those ^vho called themselves Observants, an 
honourable title by -which they are distinguished from ths 
other orders of St. Francis. As this Order did not suit 
him, he went to one of those called Conventuals, whose way 
of life is not so rigid. Being one day at an entertainment, 
where there was an Observant Vicar, a man of capacity, 
piety, and gravity, he made his boast that he could draw 
tears from his audience whenever he wished to do so. By 
this speech he pretended to refute what the other had said 
to him by way of reproof and reproach, that his sermons 
produced no good effect, because they came not from his 
heart, and because his Hfe did not correspond with his doc- 
trine. * From whom do you draw tears,' he said, ^except- 
ing children and silly women V ' You, then,' said Liciensis, 
' who are so great a man, come to-morrow where I am to 
preach, and be at such a place in the church where I can 
observe you, and have a full sight of you, and if I do not 
make you weep, I will give you a supper ; if I do, you shall 
give one to me and this company.' He did not mention the 
w^orcl j)ay, because those people never touch money ; but 
there was in the company a friend to the Franciscans, who 
offered to be security for the Observants. On the follow- 
ing day he went and took the place which was appointed ; 
and then the preacher, after having represented the loving- 
kindness and mercy of God, and the ingratitude and stub- 
bornness of those whom nothing can call to repentance and 
to mutual love, began, as in the person of God, to address 
himself to the human heart. ' heart !' said he, ' harder 
than iron, harder than diamonds ; for even iron wiU melt in 
the fire, and the blood of a goat will dissolve a diamond ; 
but I, do what I can, am not able to draw from thee one 
single tear.' He carried on his apostrophe with such pa- 
thetic vehemence, that at last the Yicar began to weep. As 
soon as the preacher saw it, stretching forth his hand to- 



S62 PEOPOSAL TO MAKE ERASMUS A CAEDINAL. 

wards him, he cried out, ' I have conquered.' The audience 
supposed that he still spoke in the person of God, applaud- 
ing himself, as it were, for his victory over those who could 
not refrain from shedding tears. After this, at supper, as 
the Conventual monk boasted of his success, the Observant 
replied, smartly enough, ' It was not your eloquence that 
drew those tears, but the compassion which I then felt 
for you, and a concern that one of such happy talents should 
■choose rather to serve the world than Jesus Christ.' " 

Soon after the time just referred to, the Pope, Paul III, 
made several learned men Cardinals. He is said to have 
given them this preferment ^ partly because he had been 
strongly condemned for having made his two young nephews 
Cardinals in 1534:, and partly also because he wished to 
strengthen the See of Eome against the Lutherans. He 
wished to include Erasmus in the number. " But to my 
promotion," says Erasmus,'"' " it v/as objected that my bad 
state of health would make me unfit for that function, and 
that my income was not sufiicient ; for it is said, that by a 
decree of the sacred college, none can be admitted whose 
annual revenues are less than three thousand ducats. So 
at present they think of loading me with preferments, that 
I may be qualified for the red hat.- This is, as the proverb 
says, ' To dress a cat in a gown and petticoat.' '^ He de- 
clares that his health would not permit him to accept such 
favours, and that he could scarcely move from his chamber 
with safety ; and he refused everything which was off*ered 
to him. The design was afterwards abandoned. The Pope, 
however, in a brief dated August 1st, 1535, appointed him 
Provost of the College of Canons, at Deventer, using very 
flattering expressions. He declares that " bearing in mind 
the piety and probity of Erasmus, his superiority in 
and the good services which he had 
Op. torn. iii. p. 1508, edit. Lugd. 



SYMPTOMS OF THE APPEOACH OF DEATH. 363 

rendered to the Apostolic See, in vigorously attacking the 
deserters of the faith, he gives him the Provostship of De- 
venter, in the diocese of Utrecht, vacant by the death of 
John Vinchel, reputed to be worth six hundred florins 
a-yeaij that he gives it with great pleasure, and as an 
earnest of the recompense which he intended to bestow 
upon his virtue.""* Erasmus indeed declared that he would 
have nothing to do with preferments, and that, as the hour 
of his death could not be far distant, he would not take 
upon himself a burden which he had refused in the former 
part of his life ; but the simple fact that it should have been 
proposed to confer these honours upon him, as well as the 
reasons given for the latter appointment, afford sad evidence 
that he was not fulfilling the expectations formed of him in 
the early part of his life, that he had in fact abandoned the 
Keformation, and that he was now exerting every efi'ort to 
level with the ground the rising walls of the fabric of 
Protestantism. 

Erasmus now began to feel very plainly that the hour of 
his death could not be far distant. Soon after his arrival 
at Basle he was seized with a violent fit of the gout. From 
this disorder he had suffered since the beginning of 1534. It 
was attended with convulsions which very much weakened 
liim. He was able, however, to revise his letters, and to make 
additions to them. While he was doing so, when he came to 
any of his old friends, he said with much emotion, " Hie 
mortuus est." Finding that his correspondents were more 
of them dead than living, he burst into an agony of grief, 
and exclaimed, " I desire not, if it please the Lord, to live 
any longer." He was much aff'ected at losing almost all 
his friends in ten years. If those in England had not per- 
ished in the common course of nature, or by the hands of 
the executioner, still they were altogether dead to himself; 
* Jortin, vol. i. p. 624. 



364 HIS LAST LETTEE. 

for they could not, in those dangerous days, carry on inter- 
course with him even through the imperfect medium of 
epistolary correspondence. We shall easily understand 
how it was that fearfulness and trembling had come upon 
the inhabitants of the land, when we remember that in the 
years 1535 and 1536 the monasteries were dissolved, that 
insurrections were breaking out which were with difficulty 
quelled, that, as I have said, More, Fisher, Anne Boleyn, 
and Lord Eochford, her brother, were beheaded, and that 
if the breath of suspicion rested on any one, not even the 
greatest public services could preserve him from falling a 
victim to the caprice of an arbitrary monarch. 

About the beginning of autumn he was attacked by 
dysentery, so that for a whole month he was seldom out of 
his bed, and only once over the threshold of his chamber. 
While he was lying in agony he wrote a treatise "De Puritate 
Ecclesise," and made a last effort to finish his work on Origen. 
Thus we see that excruciating torture could not impose any 
restraint upon his industry, nor damp his ardour in the pro- 
secution of his studies. In the summer he grew worse. 
The last letter which we have from him is dated June 28.'^ 
He subscribes it thus. Eras. Eot. cegra manu. It is a letter 
to his old friend Goclenius, who had advised him to vrrite 
to a lady of the House of Nassau. " If you had known,'' 
he said, " exactly the state of my affairs, you would havd 
sent word to this lady that I had been obliged to depart 
from Friburg on account of my bad health, with a design 
to go to Bezan^on as soon as I had finished my 'Ecclesiastes,* 
that I might still continue in the Emperor's territories. 
But my disease growing worse, I have been obliged to pass 
the winter at Basle -, for although I am here with my best 
friends, and such as I could not have at Friburg, yet because 
of the difference of religious sentiments, I should have been 
* Jortin's "Life," vol. i. p. 576. 



HIS DEATH AND FUl^EEAL. 365 

glad to end my days elsewhere. I wish Brabant were 
nearer at hand." 

He had been, as I have said, suffering from dysentery, 
and had seen plainly for some months that the time of his 
departure could not be far distant. He foretold it again 
three daj^'s, and then two days before his death. He told 
Amerbach, Froben, and Episcopius, who came in to pay 
him a visit, that in them he beheld Job's three friends, and 
asked them smiling, why they had not rent their clothes, 
and put ashes on their heads. He retained his speech and 
reason to the last, and breathed out his soul in these ejacu- 
lations, " Mercy, sweet Jesus, how long ? Jesus, fountain of 
mercy, have mercy on me." He died calmly at midnight on 
July 12th, 1536, surrounded by friends who had made com- 
mon cause with Zuinglius and CEcolampadius, without one 
prayer to the Virgin Mary, or to any of those Saints whom 
the Church of Eome has taught her followers to regard with 
^ superstitious reverence. 

Multitudes flecked from all parts to see his remains. 
His funeral was solemnized with the greatest honour. The 
■senators of Basle, and the whole University accompanied his 
body to the grave. He was interred in the cathedral church 
under a monument of Parian marble. The inscription was 
drawn up by his heir, Amerbach, from which it appears 
that he was buried in July. Close to the monument is a 
bust of the god Terminus, taken from a seal-ring which he 
-always used, given to him by his pupil, the Archbishop of 
St. Andrew's, on which were engraved the god Terminus 
and these words, " Cedo nulli." His biographer. Knight, 
observes that he did nob use these words in a vainglorious 
sense, but for the purpose of quickening that ardour which 
served to place him on the very pinnacle of literary glory. 

His death was lamented by the republic of letters, and 
the best wits of the day wrote funeral elegies upon it. His 



866 HIS WILL. 

will was confirmed by the Emperor and tlie Pope. It 
appears from it that in consequence of the liberality of his 
friends he was not, as he sometimes represented himself, in 
bad circumstances. It was reported at the time of his 
death that he left more than 7000 ducats. A reference is 
made in it to the sale of his library to John a Lasco, on 
the condition that he also should have the use of it during 
his lifetime. He left Boniface Amerbach " his heir, and 
made several small bequests to other friends. One of his 
bequests is very remarkable. His rings, plate, and jewels, 
and other curiosities were to be sold, and the money was to 
be distributed in the first place to those who had become 
poor by age or sickness, then to maidens destitute of for- 
tune towards their marriage, and lastly, to hopeful but poor 
scholars for the encouragement of their studies. Melchior 
Adam informs us that, after his death, some persons who 
had interest at the Emperor's Court, said that his will ought 
to be set aside, his estate confiscated, and his works pro- 
hibited, because he had died a heretic and a Lutheran, and 
that they would have been successful if Mudaeus, an eminent 
lawyer, once a disciple of Erasmus, and much in favour with 
the Emperor, had not prevented the execution of their 
design.* 

A wooden statue had been erected at Eofcterdam by the 
magistrates, in 1549, and placed on the arch of the stone 
bridge, in honour of Erasmus, on occasion of the visit of 
Philip II. to that city. Afterwards, in 1557, it was changed 
for another of fine blue stone, but the Spaniards, urged 
on by a certain monk of their nation, shot it down with 
their muskets, and threw it into the water. When the 
Spaniards were driven out of the town, the statue was set 
up again, by order of the magistrates. It was succeeded by 
a third, cast of copper or brass, at the public expense, wliich 

* Jortin, vol. i, p. 596. 



HIS STATUE AND THE HOUSE WHEEE HE WAS BOEN. 367 

was not quite finisliecl and exposed to view till 1662. This 
is a master-piece of art, rather bigger than life, nobly hab- 
ited in "^a gown. He is represented as turning over tlia 
leaves of a book. The statue stands in an open part of the 
city, by the side of a canal, upon a pedestal adorned with 
inscriptions, and surrounded with iron rails. Over the 
tailor's house in the Brede Kirk Street, where he was born^ 
Eotterdam, proud to claim him as her citizen, has placed the 
foUomng inscription — "Hcec est parva domus natus qua 
magnus Erasmus." 

I may here state that Beatus Ehenanus informs us that 
he was low of stature, but not remarkably short, that he was 
well-shaped, of a fair complexion, with hair, in his youth, of 
a pale yellow colour, gray eyes, a cheerful countenance, a 
low voice, and an agreeable elocution_, and that he was neat 
in his apparel. He adds that he was an agreeable com- 
panion, a constant friend, generous and charitable.'^ The 
same friend says that he seldom went to mass without be- 
stowing an alms. 

I have now finished the Life of Erasmus. I have con- 
demned in former pages his timidity, and all those faults 
which have tarnished the fame of services rendered in the 
early part of his career to the cause of the Eeformation. 
But, with the exception of a few captious critics, all have 
admitted that literary excellence which has secured for him 
a high place amongst men of letters, and has been the means 
of transmitting his name with honour to succeeding genera- 
tions. If we take into account the difference of times and 
circumstances, that he did not possess many of the aids 
with which we are so abundantly favoured, we must be 
astonished at the vast amount of knowledge which he ac- 
quired. He was one of those intellectual giants whose 
strength almost " surpassed nature's law." I have already 
* Jortic, vol. i. p. 580. 



S68 HIS SUPERIOR LATIN STYLE. 

referred to his prodigious memory, A careful examination 
will serve to sliow us that he never inserts in one book a 
passage used in another. He was himself a kind of living 
library. He could remember, without turning to the author, 
any passage of which he wished to make use for argument or 
illustration. His amazing intellectual powers were greatly 
aided by an untiring industry which led him cheerfully to 
endure that ''weariness of the flesh" which springs from 
excessive study, in order that he might gratify his thirst for 
knowledge, and promote the onward march of intellectual 
and moral improvement. 

We have already seen that he owed to himself almost all 
his knowledge of the liatin and Greek languages. In the 
latter he may, as I have said, have been surpassed by Bu- 
dseus ; but in the former he was absolutely unrivalled. He 
Lad, by long habit, formed a style of Latinity, not indeed 
framed exactly on the model of Cicero, for he laughed to 
scorn those who rejected every word which was not to be 
found in the works of the illustrious orator ; but still re- 
markably pure, masculine, and nervous, and admirably 
suited to be the vehicle of that sparkling wit, that cutting 
satire, that sophistry, those " thoughts that breathe, those 
words that burn," with which he astonished, delighted, edi- 
fied, instructed, provoked, and offended many thousands of 
his contemporaries. His verses are remarkable for good 
sense but they do not .exhibit the same elegance of taste as 
his prose. They are also deficient in poetical numbers. 
His works are remarkable for conciseness and condensation. 
Words are always employed in them which, if they fail to 
■carry conviction, render his meaning intelligible to the 
reader. He wrote with remarkable rapidit}^, and had not 
the patience to subject his writings to careful revision, so 
that very often much escaped his observation which ought 
to have been corrected. He threw all his first thoughts on 



HIS LABOURS FOE THE PROMOTION OF LITERATURE. 869 

paper, like diamonds rougli from the mine, which have 
never been polished into beauty, and cut into symmetry by 
the hand of the skilful artificer. 

Erasmus lived for literature. He laboured most ener- 
getically to promote its progress throughout the Continent 
of Europe. It was his earnest wish that Melancthon should 
devote himself to polite learning, because he saw that h& 
possessed talents of the highest order, which peculiarly qua- 
lified him to appreciate, and to make known to other.*, the 
beauties in the works of those poets, orators, philosophers^ 
and historians who have reared to themselves in them a 
durable monument.* One of his reasons for separating 
himself from the Eeformers was that he thought that the 
Reformation was becoming the all-absorbing subject of at- 
tention, and was leading to the neglect of polite literature^ 
the cultivation of which would, he hoped, be instrumental m 
promoting the moral and spiritual regeneration of Europe. 
Of this idea I have already spoken, and still have to add 
a few words upon it. We must admit that by his in- 
defatigable labours he contributed greatly to disperse the 
gross darkness which covered the nations. Hitherto all 
who wished to make progress in ancient literature had 
repaired to Italy in order that they might receive instruc- 
tion from the distinguished emigrants who had settled 
in that country, having brought with them the works of 
the Greek authors, which they had snatched from the 
Byzantine libraries, and had thus saved from the destruction 
with which they were threatened. The Italians, that they 
might make a gain of the vast numbers who flocked to their 
shores, endeavoured to keep in their own hands the key 
which unlocked the golden cabinet. But Erasmus disap- 
pointed their expectations. To him mainly it was owing 

* See the quotations from Luther's epistles, given in * ' Milner's. 
Church History," vol. v. p. 324. 

24 



370 DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY OF HIS WORK. 

that all, v/itliout crossing the ocean, were able to gaze upon 
the invaluable treasures. He brought learning to their own 
homes, and excited that spirit of industry which led them 
to devote themselves with indefatigable ardour to the pro- 
secution of their studies. We shall be greatly surprised 
that he should have been instrumental in accomplishing this 
great intellectual revolution, when we remember that he 
was born in poverty and obscurity, that he never held any 
lucrative employment or public benefice; that he was in- 
debted for the means of defraying his necessary expenses to 
the precarious bounty of his friends and admirers; that 
often, in the earlier part of his career, he had no money to 
buy those books without which he could not hope that his 
labours would be crowned with the wished-for success ; that 
lie was destitute of those means and appliances for the study 
of classical authors with which we are so abundantly favoured; 
that, during a part of his life he was wandering about from 
place to place, engaged in visiting those public libraries where 
lie might obtain information which would be of service to 
him in the composition of his works ; that he was afflicted 
with an incurable disorder, the stone, which caused him ex- 
cruciating agony, obliged him, as he informs Wolsey's phy- 
sician,'^ for twenty years to read and write standing or 
leaning, and to sit very little except at meals, often inter- 
rupting him in his studies, and threatening to bring him 
to a premature grave ; and that he had to spend the time 
which he was anxious to devote to the pursuit of learning, 
in. answering those invectives of his opponents to which he 
had rendered himself obnoxious during the last sad years of 
his memorable career. 

Erasmus was a most voluminous writer. His works were 
published after his death, in 1540, by B. Rhenanus at tho 
press of Froben at Basle, in nine folio volumes. They were 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1814, edit. Lugd. 



ENUMEEATION OF HIS PUBLICATIONS. 371 

afterTi'ards published in ten volumes hj Le Clerc, at Leyden, 
in 1703. Vie may form some idea of the number of his 
publications, and of the editions through which they have 
passed, when we hear that one large volume among the 
catalogues at the British Museum is appropriated to them. 
I shall not now enumerate all the works which have already 
come before us. Of these, the Adages, the Epistles, the 
New Testament, and the Paraphrases, occupy each one by 
itself a large folio volume. Gradually, most of his works 
have ceased to be read, not because any want of merit has 
been discovered in them, but because the subjects discussed 
are better understood, and because subsequent treatises on 
them, written in modern languages, have superseded their 
use. Before I conclude this part of our subject, I will 
refer to those not already mentioned. Thej include many 
editions of classical authors, besides works designed to 
assist in classical studies, and a large work called the 
*' Apophthegms of the Ancients," containing many brilliant 
gems ; as well as thirty smaller works on religious subjects. 
Some of them which are devotional, are of a common- 
place character. He pubhshed also thirty-five minor trea- 
tises on general subjects, respecting some of which the 
same observation may be made. The only one not already 
referred to, which rises above mediocrity, is a treatise 
concerning the manner of writing letters on all subjects, 
which may be read with pleasure on account of its ex- 
quisite Latinity, the information supplied by it respect- 
ing the titles and forms by which great men were then 
addressed, and the modes of speech, considered particu- 
larly courteous, which, he felt, would soon be no more 
needed. "When we hear that he pubhshed, as I have said, 
many works of the Fathers, together with more than 
twenty Apologies, some of them of great length, we shall 
have some idea of those " -n-ovc/ 'UpdKXnoi," those "Hercu- 

24—2 



872 HIS CHAEACTEE. 

lean labours," whicli have secured for him an immortal 
memory among his fellow-creatures. 

I have now little more to say about Erasmus. AYe may 
gather from his writings that he was remarkable for his 
warm and generous disposition, and that he was full of 
kindness to all around him. He was certainly too sensi- 
tive when he was attacked by his adversaries. He could 
advise others who suffered in the same way to leave the 
jackdaws to their fate ; but he could not follow his own 
advice. He was too ready to make a reply to them, and 
always attacked them with great bitterness. The " Spongia" 
to Hutten, in which he animadverts in a tone of savage 
delight upon his debts, his disease, and his poverty, affords 
a sad evidence of the truth of the preceding assertion. He 
does not seem to have been covetous, nor ambitious of eccle- 
siastical dignities. It was his wish only to have sufficient 
means to be enabled to prosecute, without distraction, his 
beloved studies. The largest desires of his heart had been 
gratified. He was the idol before which all the learned 
men in Europe were bowing down in solemn adoration. It 
was his conviction that if he had accepted ecclesiastical 
preferment, he would have entered into a splendid servi- 
tude. He would have b(?en bound with golden fetters, and 
would have been unable to assail the abuses and corrup- 
tions of the Church and Court of Eome. 

Some of his works are remarkable for the tone of 
earnest piety which pervades them, and for the important 
practical precepts, applicable to all times and circumstances, 
which they contain. His critical investigations, however, 
led him to a somewhat freer view of inspiration than 
had been common before him. He thought it unneces- 
sary to attribute everything in the Apostles to miraculous 
teaching. Christ, he said, suffered the Apostles to err, and 
that, too, after the descent of the Paraclete ; but not so 



HIS SCEPTICISM. 373 

as to endanger the faitli. He remarks tliat the Epistle to 
the Hebrews is not entirely in the style of the Apostle 
Paul. He doubts whether St. John the Apostle wrote the 
Apocalypse. He often accuses the Evangelists of lapses 
of memory, and I regret to say that a rationalistic spirit 
constantly appears in his writings. 

It is scarcely possible not to observe^that the mind of 
Erasmus was essentially sceptical. He had doubts about 
almost everything except the existence of God, and the 
obligation of the moral law. He wished the articles of 
faith to be brought within a very narrow compass. The 
following observations are to^be found- in the introduction 
to his edition of St. Hilary : — " The sum of our religion is 
peace, which cannot easily be preserved^unless we define 
very few points ; and in most matters leave every one to 
form his own judgment." He afterwards says that it had 
occurred to him, in examining the works of Hilary, that, 
while every effort is made to impress us with the belief that 
the Son is very God of very God, nothing is said about 
the Holy Spirit, and His ecjuality with the Father. One 
reason which he assigns for this fact is that, on account of 
His human nature, it is more difficult to believe Christ to 
-be God. Then occur the following very objectionable words 
on the teaching of Holy Scripture as to the Three Persons : 
" The Father is very frequently called God, the Son some- 
times, the Holy Spirit never." 

I am sorry also to have to state that a passage in the same 
introduction exhibits his strong sympathy with the Arians. 
" How furiously Hilary attacks the Arians ! He calls them 
impious, blasphemous, devils, pests, enemies of Christ, as if 
the name of heretic were nothing. And yet it is probable 
that some members of the Arian party believed that their 
teaching concerning Christ was in accordance with truth 
and piety. Many great authorities support the doctrine ; 



374 HIS TENDENCY TQ-WAEDS AEIANISM. 

many passages of Scripture are in favour of it ; and there 
are not wanting arguments for it which have the appearance 
of truth." I know indeed that he has denied the charsje in 
question ; but when we find him writing in the above man- 
ner, maintaining that the Arians surpassed their adversaries 
in learning and eloquence^ that they were skilful in the 
knowledge of the Scriptures, that they might be good men 
and in the favour of God notwithstanding their error; when 
we read these words in the " Inquisition of Faith," — " The 
Son also is of God, but He is of God the Father. The 
Father alone is of none, and oUains the pr'mci2xil ]^lace cimong 
the Divine Persons," and find him asserting that Arius and his 
followers were ill-used by consubstantialists ; when we fur- 
ther find him giving an Arian, interpretation to certain texts 
which are commonly used against that party, and saying 
that " so great is his respect for the authority of the Church 
that he could agree with the Arians and Pelagians if the 
Church had supported their doctrines ;"* we cannot fail to 
come to the conclusion, notwithstanding his assertion to the 
contrary, that with the Church's consent, he would gladly 
have professed that creed which nullifies Christianity, by 
denying our Lord's consubstantiality with the Father. 

I have already observed that the sarcastic humour of 
Erasmus, even when directed against superstition, was often 
irreverent and unseasonable. The following is an instance 
of the truth of that assertion. Describing the revolution at 
Basle in 1529 to his friend Pirckheimer, he says, " The 
images of the saints, and even of the crucifix, have been 
treated with so much ludicrous insult, that it may be 
thought extraordinary that no miracle should have been 
wrought on the occasion, especially as the saints of former 
times performed plenty of them in consequence of slight 
afironts."t Again, writing to Andreas Critius, he says, 
* See p. 285. t Op. torn. iii. p. 1188, edit. Lugd. 



HIS LATITUDmAEIAKISir. 375 

" They tell horrid stories of saints who, in many instances, 
punished persons for using profane expressions ; insomuch 
that I cannot but wonder that not one out of so many should 
revenge himself on the authors of this prodigious devasta- 
tion. As to the mildness of Christ and the Blessed Virgin, 
I am not at all surprised at it."* 

The preceding examples will have served to show the 
tendency of Erasmus's mind on religious subjects. He 
seems to have imasrined that if a man's life were consis- 
tent with the fair rules of order and morality, his faith 
might be left without hazard to the decision of his own 
judgment ; and that, however he might be assailed by the 
advocates of bigotry, he Arould stand acquitted before that 
Being, who knows the waywardness of the human mind, 
and who will judge us according to our works. Adequately 
to expose the unsoundness of this opinion would require a 
long discussion. Suffice it now to appeal to the authorita- 
tive decision in those words of the Apostle, which are dic- 
tated by the Spirit of unerring wisdom, and are left upon 
record as a lasting evidence of the evil of false principles, 
and the unspeakable value of the genuine religion of Christ : 
"Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other 
gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto 
you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now 
again, if any man preach any other gospel unto you than 
that ye have received, let him be accursed."t "The ques- 
tion of questions," as Mr. Froude observes^ in a lecture on 
Erasmus, which presents on the whole a just view of his 
character, " is what all this latitudinarian philosophy, this 
cultivated epicurean gracefulness, would have come to, if 
left to itself; or rather what was the effect which it was 
producing ? If you wish to remove an old building without 
bringing it in ruins about your ears, you must begin at the 
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1223, edit. Lugd. t Galat. i. 8, 9. 



S76 HIS OPPOSITION TO luther's great doctrines. 

top, remove stones gradually downwards, and touch the foun- 
dation last. But latitudinarianism loosens the elementary 
principles of theology, destroys the premises on which the 

dogmatic system rests The practical effect of this, 

as the world then stood, would have been only to make the 
educated into infidels, and to leave the multitude to a con- 
venient but debasing superstition." * 

Observations already made will have served to indicate 
the true position of Erasmus with reference to the Eeforma- 
tion. We have seen that he was utterly disqualified for 
becoming a standard-bearer in the army of the Eeformers. 
The herculean strength of Luther was required for the ac- 
complishment of that great and glorious religious revolution. 
Erasmus seems from the very first to have resolved not to 
move on with the times. I wish, indeed, that it had 
been otherwise ; and that he had resolved to accept those 
great doctrines without the proclamation of which the 
Eeformation could not have been brought, as we shall see 
directly, to a successful issue. That he did not agree with 
Luther on the doctrine of original sin, appears plainly from 
the following passages : " I have shown that Paul, when he 
says that we are children of wrath, may be understood to 
speak, not of men's condition by nature, but of the depraved 
state of their morals, into which they have voluntarily 
brought themselves."t Again he seems to assert in his 
*' Paraphrase," that original sin consists in following the ex- 
5imple of our first parents. J In both these passages he 
differs from Article IX. of the Church of England, in which 
we are told that " Original sin standeth not in the following 
of Adam, (as the Pelagians do vainly talk;) but it is the fault 
and corruption of the nature of every man, that naturally is 

'^' Froude's "Short Studies on Great Subjects." 
t "Hyperaspistes," torn. ix. edit. Bas. 
:j: "Paraphrase" of Rom. v. 12. 



THE CAUSES OP HIS FAILURE AS A REPOEMEE. 377 

ingendered of the offspring of Adam.'' I have already 
stated that he differed from Luther and the other Eeformers 
on the great doctrine of justification by faith, and I need 
not adduce additional evidence of the truth of this assertion. 
Now it was because Erasmus opposed the great doctrines 
just referred to, because he hoped, by literature and culti- 
vation, to accomplish his object, that he failed hopelessly in 
his scheme for the regeneration of European society. Of 
what use is the mere knowledge of literature and science, 
independently of religious truth, in taming the passions, in 
quenching pride, in moderating ambition, in stifling envy, 
and all the malignant passions of the natural heart ? How, 
too, can it preserve a man from those crimes and excesses 
which degrade human nature, and place him on a level 
with the beasts that perish ? But union to Christ by faith 
necessitates the renunciation of every known sin ; attrac- 
tion to God by Christ prevents the deliberate omission of 
any acknowledged duty. Having laid the foundation in 
"faith," then, enjoins the Apostle, "giving all diligence, 
add to your faith virtue." The mere knowledge of science 
and literature, unconnected with the fundamental doc- 
trines of the Gospel, cannot "bring into captivity every 
thought to the obedience of Christ ;" it may shed a gleam 
of light over the " cloudy and dark day " of adversity, 
and minister consolation during the weary moments of 
languor and disease ; but it cannot cleanse us from that 
moral pollution with which our nature is infected; it 
cannot deprive death of its sting, and the grave of its 
victory ; it cannot speak peace to the man who is 
troubled with a deep sense of his sinfulness j it cannot give 
us the assurance of pardon and reconciliation with our 
Maker ; it cannot ensure us approval on the day of judg- 
ment j it cannot " minister unto us an entrance abundantly 
into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 



378 THE RIGHT METHOD OP EEFOEMING THE WORLD. 

Christ." Then only can we hope to be instrumental in 
saving the souls of others around us, and in promoting the 
peace and good order of human society, when we constantly 
exhibit Christ as the sole atonement for known and forsaken 
sin, and as the best example of virtuous and holy living ; 
Christian morals as founded upon Christian doctrine, and 
Christian principles as leading to Christian practice; to 
*' the holiness without which no man shall see the Lord." ^ 



INDEX. 



"Adages, ' The ; Erasmvis writes, 43. De- 
scription of, 54-58. Publication of edi- 
tions of, 73, 149, 193, 22S-229. Attack 
upon Kings in, 157. 

Adi-ian, Pope ; letter from him to Eras- 
mus, and fi-oni Erasmus in reply, 255, 
256. 

Agricola, Rodolpli, 13. Pi-aises Erasmus, 
14. 

Albert, Archbishoj) of ilaintz ; his de- 
sire to see Erasmus, 2. Letter to, 192, 
193. 

Aldiug-ton, Rectory of, 107, 108. 

Aldridge, Robert, 118, 123. Letter to, 
222. 

Aldus prints the "Adages " at Venice, 73. 

Aleander ; his intimacy with Erasmus, 
73. Urges the Emperor and the Elec- 
tor Frederic to give up Luther to the 
Pope, 236-238. 

Alexander, Pope, 36. Condemned in the 
" Praise of Folly," 95. 

Alexander, Ai'chbishop of St. Andrew's, 
66, 67. 

Amerbachs, The, father and sons, the 
printers at Basle, 147, 151. 

Ammonius, Andreas ; letters to, 3, 12G- 
127, 144, 186. 

"Apophthegms," The, of Erasmus, 371. 

Arabian learning ; its duration, 6, 7. 

Ai-ianism, The, of Erasmus, 373, 374. 

Augsbiu-g, Christopher Stadius, Bishop 
of ; makes a journey to see Erasmus, 
315. 

Augsbiu'g, City of ; symbolical represen- 
tation at, 339. 

Atirotinus, Cornelius ; Erasmus writes his 
first two letters to him, 29. 

B 

Baptista, Dr. ; his sons go to Italy with 

Erasmus, 66. 
Barbirius, P. ; letter to, 285. Intercepts 

Erasmus's pension, 287. 
Basle ; Erasmus an-ives at, 146. I\Iukes it 

his home, 265. His departure from, 

325. His return to, 360. His death 

and funeral at, 365. 
Battus, 31. 
Becket, St. Thomas a, 131, 132, 133, 135, 

136. 



Bedda ; his persecution of the Reformers, 

290, 291. His controversy with Eras- 
mus, 292-294. 
Bergis, Anthony ti, a friend of Erasmus, 

50. 
Bergis, Henry de, Bishop of Cambray ; 

takes Erasmus fi-om the monastery, 31. 

Sends him to Paris, 31. Does not help. 

him to pay his expenses there. 33. 
Berquin Louis de ; is apprehended, 291. 

Translates Erasmus's works, and cii'cu- 

lates them, 327, 328. He is sent to 

prison, and delivered from it, 329, 331. 

Letter of Erasmus describing Ms death, 

332, 333. 
Blunt, Professor ; his observations on the 

" Paraphrase " of Erasmus, 198, 199. 
Bologna ; Erasmus at, 72. ISTearly lest 

his life at, 73. 74. 
Boville ; letter from Erasmus to him about 

the Novum Testamentum, 187. 
Budaeus ; compaied to Erasmu.s, 289. 

Letter of Erasmus to, 354. 
Burgundy, Prince Philip of ; panegyi-i c 

of Erasmus on, 44. 



Cambridge ; Erasmus goes to, 1 09. He 
resides for two yeai'S at, 126. He is 
out of humour with, 127. Departs 
from, 128. 

Campegius. Cardinal ; letters to, 208, 233. 

Canossa, Cardinal ; the interview of 
Erasmus with. 128. 129. 

Canterbury, visit of Erasmus to, 132-142. 

Carpi, Prince of, 271, 320. 

Catherine of Arragon ; Erasmus com- 
mends her piety and learning, and 
dedicates to her his " Treatise on Ma- 
trimony," 296. He wi'ites about her- 
divorce. 304 305. His letter to, 305. 

Charles, Prince ; Erasmus is appointed 
to a post in his Council, 128. Ke writes 
for his benefit the '•' Christian Prince," 
166. Is elected Emperor, 231, 232. 
Is crowned, 236. Is urged to issue an 
edict against Luthei", 237. Writes a 
flattering letter to Erasmus 316. 

Charnock, Prior, the head of Erasmus's 
CoUege at Oxford, 40. 

Chelsea ; Sir Thomas More's house at, 355. 
His tomb in the church at, 357. 



380 



INDEX. 



" Ciceronianus," The ; a Tv'ork of Eras- 
mus; 321-324. 

Classical works, The, of Erasmus, 220. 

Clement VII. ; Erasmus's flattering letter 
to, 311. Makes a present to Erasmus, 
313. 

Colet, John ; his parentage, and education 
at Oxford, 35. May have heard Savona- 
rola at Florence, 37. Lectures at Ox- 
ford against the Schoolmen, 39. Dis- 
appointed because Erasmus will not 
aid him in his work, 41. Founds St. 
Paul's School, 124. Is at Canterbury 
with Erasmus, 134, 136, 137, 140, 141. 
His "Institutes of a Christian Man" 
turned into Latin verse by Erasmus, 
160. His death and character, 161. 

■'•'Colloquies," The, of Erasmus; Design 
and description of, 269, 270. Censured 
at Paris, 270. Remarkable sale of, 228. 

'■' Commentariolus de Ratione Studii," 
The, of Erasmus, 125, 126. 

"Complaint of Peace," The, of Erasmus, 
195. 

"Contempt of the "World," Erasmus's 
treatise on the, 29. 

Cope, Dr. ; Poem to, on crossing the 
Alps, 72. 

Cranmer, Ai'chbishop, commends Eras- 
mus's " Paraphrase," 19S. 



Deventer, Erasmus sent to school at, 13. 
His mother dies at, 14. Erasmus ap- 
pointed to the Provostship of, 363. 

Dorpiiis, Letters from Erasmus and More 
as to the "■ Praise of Folly " to, 102. 

Dover, Treatment of Erasmus at, 43, 144. 



■" Ecclesiastes," The, of Erasmus ; the 
character of 'VVarham from, 347, 348. 
The character of More from, 352. Story t 
of a preacher from, 360-362. ' 

" Enchiridion," The ; Erasmus writes, 44. * 
Account of, 58-62. Extract from, 172. 
Condemnation of the dogmas of Rome 
in, 224-226. Popularity in Spain of, 
229, 230. 

England, Erasmus's preference for, 3, 4, 
148. His description of the ladies in, 
41. His visits to, 34, 77, 147, 155. His 
departures from. 42. 143, 155. His ex- 
pectations from, 148. 156. 

Eppendorf, a false friend of Erasmus, 249. 

■Euripides ; Erasmus presents to Arch- 
bishop Warham a Latin translation of 
the " Hecuba " of, 65. 



Farel, William ; Quarrel of Erasmus with, i 
266-268. i 

Fathers, The ; Erasmus's opinion of, ISO, 
181. His editions of, 221. 

Fisher, Bishop ; the patron of Erasmus at 



Cambridge, 109. Letters to, 101, 232. 
Death of, 352. 

Fisher, R., letter to, 3. 

Florence, Visit of Erasmus to, 72. 

Fox, Bishop of Winchester, 63. 

Fi-ancis I. invites Erasmus to France, 289. 
Taken prisoner at Pa via, 290. Prohibits 
the sale of Bedda's book, 295. Erasmus's 
letter to Charles V. about, 315. 

Frederick, Elector of Saxony, befriends 
Luther, 199. Refuses the Imperial 
crown, 231. Interview of Erasmus 
with him at Cologne, 238-241. 

'•' Free-will," Erasmus's treatise on,257-262. 

Friburg ; Erasmus goes to, 325. Leaves, 
360. 

Froben, John, the printer ; Erasmus in- 
troduces himself to, 147. Description 
of his printing establishment, 150, 151. 
Prints the New Testament and St. 
Jerome, 147. Imitates Erasmus's •'•'Ada- 
ges," and prints a 6th edition of them, 
228. His death and character, 320, 321. 

Froude, Mr. ; Extracts from the works of, 
359, 376. 

G 

Gamblers, described in the •'•Praise of 
FoUy," 89. 

Gardiner, Bishop ; opposed to the public 
vise of the " Paraphrase," 198. 

Genevieve, St. . Erasmus's vow to, 33. 

George, Duke of Saxony ; writes to Eras- 
mus. 256. 

Gerard, the father of Erasmus, 12, 14. 
The proper name of his son, 13. 

German inns ; Erasmus's description of 
the, 67-72. 

Ghent, Accident to Erasmus near, 145. 

Goclenius, P. ; a bequest to him from 
Erasmus, 287. 

Greek ; Diffusion of a knowledge of, 7-11. 
Erasmus applies himself to the study 
of, 34, 53, 64, 65. 

Grey, T. , a pupil of Erasmus, 34. 

Grimani, Cardinal ; Introduction of Eras- 
mus to, 75, 76. His letter to, 148. 

Grocyn, the friend and tutor of Erasmus 
at Oxford, 34, 35. Introduces him to 
Archbishop Warham, 66. 

Grunnius, Letter of Erasmus to, 15-28. 

H 

Hegius, Alexander, 13. 

Henry VII. ; Erasmus praises him in an 
ode, 104. 

Henry VIII. ; Ascends the throne, 77. 
Erasmus's first visit to him as Prince 
of Wales, 103. His ode to, 104, 105. His 
high opinion of, 106. Disappointed in 
his expectations from, 157. Urged by 
him to write against Lvither, 256. Let- 
ters to, 4, 260. Invitation to England 
from, 316, 317. 

Herman of Tergau, a friend of Erasmus 
in the monastery, 29. 



INDEX. 



581 



Hei-mouymus, George, Greek professor at 

Paris, 65. 
Herzogensbiiscli, Erasmus sent to, 14. j 
Heyen, Bertha de ; Funeral oration on, 29. 
Hilary, Introduction to, 373. 
Holbein, Hans, the painter ; his illustra- 
tions of the "Praise of Folly," 101. 

Paints pictui-es of Henry VIII. and his 

queens, and one of Su- T. More's family, 

355. 
Hunters, Description of the, SO. 
Hutten. Uhich von; Letter from Erasmus 

to, 161-165. An account of his life, 246- j 

248. Ai-rives at Basle, 248. Quan-el 

with Erasmus, 249-251. 
" Hypenxspistes," The, 262, 263. | 

I 
I 
"Icthyophagia." one of the " Colloquies ;" 

An extract from, 32. 
Income of Erasmus, 286-288. 
Indulgences ; Erasmus's views as to the 

contest ahout. 191. He condemns them 

in the "■ Praise of Folly," 223. 
Ingoldstadt, Erasmus, invited to, 170. 
Inspii-ation, Views of Erasmus on, 372. 
Italy ; Erasmus leaves England for, 66. 

Eesides in, 72-76. Departs from, 77. 

Says that he intends to revisit, 149. 



Jerome, St. ; Erasmus goes to Basle to 
print his works 143. He describes his 
own edition, and the printing of it, 149, 
150, 151. The printing finished, 171. 
Extract from his introdtiction to, 184. 
Importance of the publication of, ISS. 

Jonas, Jodocus, Letter to, 243, 244. 

Jiilius 11. ; besieges and takes Bologna, 
72. Promises Erasmus prefei-ment, 73. 
Condemned in the " Pi-aise of Folly," 
97, 98. Erasmus describes lus wars, 
152. 



Kretzer, M., Letter of Erasmiis to, con- 
demning the Pope and clergy, 338. 



Lasco, John a ; led by Erasmus's wi-itings 
to join the Reformers, 326. His letter 
to. 331, 332. Sale of Ms library to, 366. 

Latimer, one of Erasmus's Oxford friends, 
34. 

Latin ; Erasmus had no rival in, 63. His 
excellent style in. 323, 368. 

Learning, Effects of the revival of, 5. 

Lee, Edward ; his controversy with Ei-as- 
mus on 1 John v. 7, S, 174. His violent 
opposition to him, 218, 219. 

Leo X. ; Erasmus introduced to him as 
Cardinal de' Medici, 73. His letter to, 
150, 151. His high opinion of, 152, 153. 
His mistaken estimate of, 154, 155. His 
Isew Testament dedicated to, 187. 



Letters of Erasmus ; an account of them, 

241-243. 
Letters of obscure men ; their design ex- 
plained, 246, 278. 
Letters, Treatise on writing, 371. 
Linacre, physician to Henry VII. and 
VIII.,an Oxford friend of Erasmus, 34. 
'•• Lingua," The, 286. 
Longland, John, Bishop of Lincoln, 314. 
Louvain, Residence of Erasmus at, 195. 
Lucian, translated by Erasmus, 63, 64. 
Luther, Martin ; his propositions against 
indulgences, 192. Defended bv Eras- 
mus, 193, 201, 233, 234, 239. Commends 
Erasmus's work, 200. Concealed at 
Wartburg, 243. Difference between 
Mm and Erasmus, 203-211, 376, 377. 
Bm-ns the Pope's bull, 236. Dislikes 
Erasmus, 243. An in-itatuig letter to 
Erasmus from, 252-255. Erasmus's reply, 
255. His treatise against Erasmus's 
doctrine of free-will, 260-262. 
Lystrius, Gerard ; Erasmus meets liim at 
"Basle, 146. His note on indulgences in 
his edition of the "Pi-aise of Follv," 
223. 

31 
Macaulay, Lord ; extracts from Ms Es- 
says, 35, 153. 
INIargaret, the mother of Erasmus, 12, 14. 
Margaret, Countess of Richmond, 109. 
Margaret of Valois, 331. 
Matrimony, Treatise on, 296-304. 
Melancthon, Philip ; his judg-ment on 
Erasmus's controversy with Luther, 
264, 265. 
Monks ; Erasmus's satire on the, 89-92. 

They oppose him, 213-215. 
More, Sir Thomas ; Erasmus becomes 
acquainted with, 40. Erasmus trans- 
lates Lucian with, 63, 64. Takes him 
to see the cMldren of Henry VII., 103. 
Erasmus describes Mm and his family, 
161-164, 354, 355. His "Utopia," 164- 
168. High character of, from the "Ec- 
clesiastes," 352. Re.sig-ns the Chancel- 
lorship, 353. His death, 358. The 
change in his religious views, 359, 360. 
Mount joy, William Lord ; Erasmus be- 
comes his tutor, 33. Brings Erasmus 
to England, 34. Invites him to return 
to England, 77. Erasmus stays with, 
107. Erasmus's pension from, 128. His 
death, 352. 



Nicholas V. ; aids in the diffusion of 

learning, 10. 
Noviomag\.is, Gerard, Letters to, 233, 335. 



(Ecolampadius ; Erasmus's letter to, 283.. 

His views on the Lord's Supper, 284,. 

285. 
Origen, Erasmus's work on, 364. 



-382 



INDEX. 



Oxford, Erasmus goes to, 34. His resi- 
dence and friendships at, 40. Depar- 
ture from, 42. 



Pace, Richard, Dean of St. Paul's, Ex- 
- tract from letter to, 211. 
Padua, Erasmus passes the winter at, 73. 
Paganism, Revival of, 153, 154, 322. 
"Paraclesis," The, 175-178. 
"Paraphi'ase of the New Testament," 

Tlie, 196-199. 
Paris, University of ; Erasmus enters, 31. 

His bad Treatment at, 32. His piipils 

at, 33. City of, extolled by Erasmus, 

44. 
Parr, Queen Catharine, 198. 
Paul III.; offers Erasmus preferment,3G2. 
" Peace of the Soul," Treatise on the, 29. 
Peasants, War of the, 281, 282. 
Pensions, The, of Erasmus, 286, 287. 
Petrarch ; his literary labours, 7-9. 
Philosophers, Erasmus's description of 

the, 84. 
Pirckheimer, Bilibald ; Letters of Eras- 
mus to, 215, 244, 374. His death, 344. 
Plutarch, A translation from, dedicated 

to Henry Vni., 106. 
Popes ; Satire of Erasmus on, 93, 95-98. 

Erasmus condemns their extravagant 

power, 227. 
"Praise of Folly," The, 77-102. The 

Church of Rome condemned in, 221-223. 

Extraordinary sale of, 228. 
"Prince, The Christian," 166. 
Psalm XXII., Exposition of, 351. 



■" Ratio verse theologise," The, 178-182. 

Reuchlin, John, 277-280. 

Rhenanus, Beatus ; Erasmus meets him 

at Basle, 146, 147. 
Richmond, Apparition at, 110. 
Rome ; Residence of Erasmus at, 73, 75, 

76. His love for, 148, 149. The Church 

of, called by Erasmus Babylon, 224, 
Roper, Margaret, 355-357. 
Rotterdam, Erasmus born at, 12. His 

statue at, 366, 367. House where he 

was born at, 367. 
Tluthall, Thomas, Bishop of Durham, 63. 

S 
Sapidus, John, 146. 
Savonarola, 37. 
Scahger ; his attack on Erasmus's " Ci- 

ceronianus," 323, 324. 
"Scarabeus Aquilam quserit," one of 

the "Adages," 55, 56. 
Scepticism, The, of Erasmus, 375. 
Schoolmen, The ; their system, 37, 38. 

Colet lectures against, 39. Erasmus's 

satire on the, 85-89. Condemned by 

him. 179, 180, 182. 



Scriptures, The ; to be studied by all, 177. 
Their historical sense, 179, 180. 

" Seraphic Obsequies," The, one of the 
" Colloquies, " 271-276. 

Servatius, the Prior, Letter to, 29, 106, 143. 

"Shipwreck," Colloquy of the, 224. 

Sickingen, Francis of, fights with Hutten 
for the Reformation, 247, 248. 

"Sileni Alcibiadis," one of the "Adages," 
56. 

Sintheim, the master of Erasmus, 14. 

Skelton, the poet, 105. 

Slechta, John, Correspondence of Eras- 
mus with, 202-203. 

Sorbonne, The, censures the works of 
Erasmus, 60, 102, 270, 319-320. 

Spalatin ; his account of Erasnms's inter- 
view with the Elector Frederic, 2 39, 240. 

" Spongia," The, of Erasmus, 227, 250-251, 
372. 

Standish, Dr., attacks Erasmus, 216-218. 

Stein, Monastery of, Erasmus at, 28-31. 

St. George, Raphael, Cardinal of, the 
friend of Erasmus at Rome, 73. His 
letter to, 149 

Stillingfleet, Bishop, commends Erasmus, 
1, 2. 

Sutor, 290 ; contest of Erasmus with, 292. 

Sylvester, Pope ; his learniiig, 6, 7. 



Terence, well knowir to Erasmus, 2. 

Testament, The New ; Erasmus's deter- 
mination to translate, 64. He is en- 
gaged on it at Cambridge, 124. Goes 
to Basle to publish, 143. Published, 
171. He was the first to publish it in 
Greek, 174. His object in publishing, 
183. Opposition to him on accoimt of 
his work, 185, 186. More praised than 
censured, 187. Rapid sale of, 187. 

Tonstall, Bishop of London, 256, 289. 

Turin, Erasmus takes his degree at, 72. 

Tyndale, translates the Enchiridion, 59. 

U 
Udal, Nicholas, Master of Eton School, 198. 
Ursewick, Christopher, 63. 



Valla, Lam-entius; an edition of his "An- 
notations " published by Erasmus, 63. 

Venice, Visit of Erasmus to, 73. 

Verden. Cornelius, a false friend of Eras- 
mus, 28. 

Vere Marchioness de, the friend and 
patron of Erasmus, 31, 32, 44. 

Vitrarius, John, the monk of St. Omer, 
45-52. 

Volzius, Paul, Letter to, 194. 

W 
Walsingham, Visit of Erasmus to, 111-124. 
Warham, Archbishop ; Fii'st visit of Eras- 



INDEX. 



383 



mus to, 65. Gives him a living, 107- 
108. Letters to, 268-269, 288. 345. Let- 
ters from, ?A5, 346. His death, 344, 
S52. Erasmus's character of, 136, 346- 
348. Observations upon it, 349-350. 

Whitford, Richard ; Erasmus dedicates a 
part of a translation of " Lucian " to, 64, 

"Widov7," " The Chi-istian," of Erasmus, 
295. 

Wiltshire and Ormond, the Earl of, 351, 
352. 

Wtmphelingus, Letter of Erasmus to, 146. 

Winkel, Peter, the master and guardian 
of Erasmus, 13, 14. 



Wit of Erasmus, Observations on the, 
276-277, 374. 

Wolsey, Thomas ; Makes Erasmus pro- 
mises, 107. Does not fulfil them, 157- 
159. 

Worms, Luther at the Diet of, 243. 

X 

Ximenes, Cardinal, The Complutensian 
Polyglott hy, 174. 



Zuinglius ; his views on the Sacrament 
of the Lord's Supper, 284. 



THE END. 



BILLING, PRINTER, GUILDFORD, 6URRBT. 



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